


A Reaper's Kiss

by kamikaze43v3r



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Angels, Drama, Feelings, Horror, How did it come to this, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Pining, Plotting as I go, Romance, Supernatural Elements, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-18 09:38:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9378785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamikaze43v3r/pseuds/kamikaze43v3r
Summary: A black shape, in the corner of his eye, steps right out of view. What looks like smoke trails after the figure and Graves almost catches a good look of it when his eyes try to follow but it’s gone. Graves scrambles to hit the lights, and again, no one is there.But the fear and rapid heartbeat in his chest is real, and Graves thinks he’s going crazy.OR: Guardian Angel AU, but not the kind you expect. Contains horror and supernatural elements.





	1. Mayat

**Author's Note:**

> I'm honoured to have a graphic done for this fic by the lovely [ridiculousria](http://ridiculousria.tumblr.com/post/158127830361/poster-for-a-reapers-kiss-by-kamikaze43v3r)!!! Thank you so much!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Mayat (pronounced _mah-yaht_ ) meaning 'corpse' in Malay

Percival Graves wakes up to the stark white of a hospital ceiling. He is confused, and tries to move, but his body refuses to cooperate. He feels exhausted and sluggish, and his brain isn’t working so well. He can’t collect his thoughts, everything is unfocused. He just feels numb and tired, and the bright lights (the window?) make his eyes ache and his vision blur. The beep of the machines by his bed are deafening.

He feels his heart beat fast, pounding against his ribs and almost sends himself into a panic, until a nurse comes in with a doctor. Graves doesn’t remember much, but he feels scared.

The emotion follows him as he drifts in and out of consciousness.

Sometimes he hears the familiar voices of his colleagues, other times he feels a flash of pain in his chest and arm. Behind his closed eyes there’s only darkness, but at times he thinks he can see a shape of a dark cloud.

When he’s fully awake, he sees his partner, Tina Goldstein, and her sister Queenie, the pretty admin.

They tell him he got shot in the chest while chasing Grindelwald, though the bullet had hit nearer to his shoulder than his heart. He’d gotten shot elsewhere too, at his thigh or something, but it was just a flesh wound; the shot to the chest was the worst of it. It explains the sharp pain at his chest and shoulders and the lack of movement there.

He'd almost died, Tina says, voice watery. His heart stopped for a moment but they've managed to bring him back. Graves stares at her, stunned by what she’s said, and he begins to remember things. Pain, mostly.

He remembers bleeding out. He remembers how alone he felt as he laid there, unable to move and feeling his body getting colder. He remembers the freezing numbness, the fading of his vision. He remembers lamenting how alone he’s been, how he’s yearned that he could have someone with him one last time. He remembers seeing something  - But that all faded away into black. He remembers the fear and the regret. It was the deafening silence that frightened him most.

Tina is tearful and relieved when she meets his gaze. She says she was the one who found him, that she thought she’d almost lost him. Her eyes are wet with tears but she doesn’t cry; she has always been the emotional one. They’re not exactly the bad cop - good cop duo, but Graves would voluntarily admit he’s the good one. Tina isn’t bad in any negative way, she’s just still a bit of a fumbling novice, and yet to be fully hardened to their line of work.

Graves is glad that he’s the one who got shot. It’s not because Tina is too fragile to be hurt, or that she’s a woman, but because she has more to live for than he does. She still has family. She still has loved ones. Graves doesn’t.

They visit him regularly, and Queenie often smuggles him baked goods. He's learnt in the short years of knowing the sisters that she enjoys cooking, and her husband is a baker. He’s glad for the treats that helps to stop his tongue from numbing thanks to hospital food. Each pastry makes his current world in the hospital look a little less grey.

Sometimes the Captain drops by and updates him, but Seraphina is always too busy so she keeps it brief. He is touched by her concern, nonetheless. She tells him that he can take a break for as long as he wants. Supposedly it is his reward for his aid in capturing Grindelwald, a highly wanted man, and also the same man who’d nearly shot him dead. Graves doesn’t even remember the gunman, but he’s glad the lunatic is put away. They’ve been chasing him for years, and he had hoped that his near death experience hasn’t gone to waste.

Graves tells her he can return to work immediately, but she only gives him a tight smile. He feels something drop in his chest, but doesn’t comment on the expression. He knows better than to say anything, and instead, look anxiously to the window.

He is awake and conscious most days, but he still feels like he’s in a daze and everything is just a blur. He’s not sure of the amount of time that passes, but he is eager to leave the hospital. He wants to go back to work, but at the same time he doesn’t. He’s not sure why.

He just wants to get out of there. The boredom is driving him insane, and he feels like he’s forgotten something. Graves can still see the silhouette of a stranger when he closes his eyes, but it’s no one he recognises. Sometimes it’s just a giant formless mass, and sometimes it transforms into a monster with claws. He thinks he’s having nightmares of Grindelwald who shot him, but it didn’t suit the image. This stranger is stuck in his head. He’s asked Tina about it, but there wasn’t anyone else when she found him.

He remembers fear, the stench of his own blood, and the desperation in just trying to breathe.

It wasn’t his first time getting shot, but it had been the first that felt so close to death. He never thought that he would be so scared of it. He’s thought of the possibility before, but imagination is nothing compared to reality. The fear had been acute, back then, and he can remember it fiercely. Graves isn’t a religious man, but he’d prayed to a higher power to let him live. And it seems, his prayer has been answered. The memory of the deathly quiet cold still shakes him, but it proves and reminds him how human he is, which brings relief.

He’s glad he is still alive, thankful to still be breathing.

 

* * *

 

When he’s discharged - _finally_ \- Graves returns to an empty home. He’s paid well, but Graves has never really been the type to spend on anything other than designer clothes, a guilty pleasure he’s a little embarrassed to admit. His apartment is quite modest, but is generously furnished and decorated. It’s a home, but it’s clear that it’s the home of a single man.

Tina and Queenie had volunteered to help with keeping it clean, and he’s never been more grateful. The food in his fridge has been cleared and restocked, and his laundry has been done. Graves thinks of buying the girls something in return.

The first thing he does is head into his room and rest. He's missed his bed, the familiarity of his room. He hated the antiseptic smell and the taste of medicine is still strong in his mouth. He hates the feeling of death and grim despair in the building, something that can’t really be explained but still feels nonetheless.

He's heard voices, and strange sounds there but hadn't commented on them. He's seen some things at the corner of his eye, but he's always too drugged up to really think of it. It didn't matter that the sounds and sights sometimes follow him in his sleep. Just tricks of his tired mind. He's been through a lot of stress after all.

He tries to rest, but he’s done too much of it, so he stares at nothing, thinking of nothing. Thinking too much leads to terrible things. He can't help but wonder if Seraphina will let him return to work eventually.

He doesn't focus on the image of her pitying looks and deflecting words in his head.

And then, in the corner of his eye yet again, Graves notices movement.

Instincts kick in, and Graves jumps up and grabs for the glock in his drawer. He arms himself, readying the gun for the intruder, but there’s no one. He’s alone in his room. Unconvinced, Graves search his entire apartment, but there’s no trace of anyone.

He had seen a person, a figure clad in black, in his peripheral vision. The person had ducked out of sight, soundlessly and too quick for him to get a proper look. He’d felt the person’s presence too.

Graves was sure. He couldn’t have imagined it, could he? The shadow he's seen hadn't looked that solid in the hospital. It must be because of the lighting.

Reluctantly, Graves returns to his room and tells himself it’s just nerves. Having almost died once must have made him paranoid and thinking too much. He tells himself that, but the gun remains in his hand.

He doesn’t sleep that night.

 

* * *

 

Graves is still on leave, but there is little for him to do. He has no hobbies, and is - was? - married to his job. He thinks of starting something, anything, to quell the boredom. He goes grocery shopping instead, at the Whole Foods he frequents. It’s something mundane, but it’s also something that keeps him occupied. He buys some ingredients for dinner along with some dessert, and heads home.

The entire time he’s out, Graves feels someone watching him, but he’s spotted no one. He calls Tina and asks her about Grindelwald, or anyone else who’s been released from prison. She tells him that Grindelwald is still locked up and awaiting trial, and no one in particular is out and looking for him. It’s good news, but does little to kill the anxiety in Graves.

She asks if he’s alright, and he assures her that yes, everything is fine, and that he’s thinking of holding dinner for her and Queenie and her husband Jacob. Graves can hear the smile in her voice as she accepts his invitation.

They schedule it at some date a few days later, and Graves is eager for company. Admittedly, he feels a little lonely. He considers getting a different kind of company, but that comes with a lot of trouble, and he’s not the type to open up to someone so easily in any way.

He sighs and gets ready to make dinner. He should be getting used to it.

When he gets ready for bed that night, Graves begins to feel that presence again. It’s hard to describe, the feeling of someone watching, but the presence of a person in the same room with him is palpable. He’s already switched off the lights, leaving only the table lamp by the bed lit.

He holds still, along with his breath, as he focuses on the sensation. Graves is both alarmed and curious. A little scared.

What feels like a minute later, and the sensation doesn’t lift. He swallows almost audibly, and wills himself to move.

He sees movement, the same thing again.

A black shape, in the corner of his eye, steps right out of view. What looks like smoke trails after the figure and Graves almost catches a good look of it when his eyes try to follow but it’s gone. Graves scrambles to hit the lights, and again, no one is there. But the fear and rapid heartbeat in his chest is real, and Graves thinks he’s going crazy.

He must be hallucinating. He’s not stupid enough to think his house is haunted. There's no such thing as ghosts. He's just gone through a stressful event. He's still recuperating. The drugs must be affecting his system.

This must be why Seraphina is reluctant to have him back. His thoughts race, but there is little he can do, not really anyone he can turn to.

Graves decides to sleep on the couch, with all the lights in the house on. He hopes it’s just an after effect of the mind, that it’ll go away soon. Then he can go back to work and his life can return to normal.

 

* * *

 

 It doesn’t go away.

Every night, he feels the presence. He feels someone, or something, watching him. And it doesn’t end there either. It’s getting worse.

He _sees_ things. Weird, strange things.

When he’s walking outside, he sees a person walk through walls. He sees a strange child gliding along the ground, the surface untouched by her feet. He sees an odd creature that is neither human nor animal prowling in the shadows. He sees a dog with the face of a human. He sees strange lights in the sky.

All bizarre, frightening sights.

Some of them stare at him, others ignore him entirely. None of them approach him, but those that do hisses something in his direction and the sound of it _hurts_. It’s left him frozen and shuddering and doubled over heaving, and people around him stare at him like he’s a lunatic. He can’t grasp why the sound hurts but he doesn’t want any of those things looking his way.

But what unnerves him most though are not those creatures. They mostly ignore him and he can stay out of their way. Those things are nightmare fuel but he can avoid them as long as he doesn’t look.

It’s the shadow figures. Sometimes he sees either a shadow or a light accompanying other people. Often enough that he’s made the connection that almost everyone has their own _thing_ following their every step. He hates that it looks normal, as if it’s a thing to be expected. The light figures looks less hostile, but blinding and intimidating, something larger than life. The shadow figures are featureless, but nightmarish with the way it clings around its host with its grotesque claws. Looking at them too long brings unwanted, terrible images that forces him o turn away. He can’t stand to look at either of them, and keeps his eyes to the ground.

Graves no longer dares to look in the mirror. He’s afraid of seeing one of them behind him.

The presence that watches him is still there, a heavy weight on his mind. It frustrates him that he can’t see the thing that’s following him - he knows it’s a _thing_ , it can’t be a real person - but he’s no longer afraid of it, strangely, somehow become used to the sensation, but it’s still weird. It still makes him nervous and jittery. He wonders if it’s the shadow or the light. Neither of them are good to him.

Graves knows his hallucinations are affecting him. He’s become more paranoid and he doesn’t sleep much. He doesn’t eat well and he’s reluctant to leave his apartment. All he wants is to avoid looking at creatures he can’t fathom. It feels like a never-ending nightmare and Graves can’t tell how many days it’s been since he’s come home.

Tina, his naturally inquisitive partner, expresses her concerns over the phone. When they had the dinner meeting, all of them notice he’d been strange, jumpy. He’s avoided any more meetings after that, which is why she’s calling him now. She wants to know how he’s doing, but Graves can’t give an answer. He’s had it bad then, but not as bad as it is now.

She looks shocked when he opens his door to her. She tells him that he looks sickly, gaunt, and _haunted_. The word makes the ends of his mouth twitch upward, but it feels like can’t even control his facial muscles anymore. Tina suggests that maybe he needs a certain kind of help. Graves brushes it off, but Goldstein is stubborn. She forces the food Queenie and Jacob made onto his hands and doesn’t leave until he eats them.

When Seraphina calls him up, he knows his nosy partner has ratted him out to her, and the next thing he knows, he’s going for therapy.

Graves almost laughs, but he goes.

The doctor -  _ Therapist? Psychiatrist? Whatever  _ \- prods him with questions. He can’t even focus on the person before him. All he sees is dark, and he doesn’t want to look.  _ How do you feel? What do you think about what you see? Do you remember anything from your near-death experience? Do you think it all started from there? _

All very valid questions, but Graves hates it when people treat him like this. Fragile, broken, weak. He’s already angry and tired and confused at what’s happening to him, and the shrink isn’t making him any better. He has no answers to these questions when he's asking himself the same thing everyday. He’s tempted to throw the table at them, but remembers he needs to get back to work.

He needs the okay so Seraphina can take him in again. So he puts on a smile and says nothing alarming that can be reported about him. He doesn’t say he can see a black shadow hanging over them.

Graves returns home mentally exhausted. He keeps his eyes to the ground until he reaches his door. He doesn’t want to see any more nightmares. He doesn’t want to look at those _things_. He doesn’t need more images to flood his brain; there are already too many thoughts cramped into his mind.

What happened after he was shot? Did he hit his head as he fell to the floor? Did the loss of blood affect his brain? An after effect of some medication? A mental illness that has only just surfaced?

Or is this payment for a second chance at life?

He wants all the thoughts and hallucinations to stop. He needs to sleep, needs to shut everything out. Graves takes some medication he knows would make him drowsy. It’s not the sleeping pills he wants, but it would make him groggy enough to drift him off.

He doesn’t even bother counting the pills as he takes them desperately. He’s terrified. He nearly sobs as he sits at his dining table, feeling cornered, unwell and hopeless. If his sanity was the price for a second life maybe he should have just died. His head throbs as he’s reminded of the dreadful cold.

Graves feels the same presence again. He’s so tired and scared. He begs the presence to leave him alone.

“Please, please, _please,_ let me be _. God_ ,” Graves pleads. It feels like it’s the most he’s spoken so far. Everything else feels like words stuck in his head and he’s trapped in his mind. He prays the presence does as he asks.

It doesn’t.

He snaps up when he _hears_ it instead. It is a deathly, rasping wail, eerily quiet, but audible. It sounds inhuman and shakes him to the core as if it’ll burst out from within his own head. The pitch of it scratches at his brain and makes the hair on the back of his neck stand. Graves scrambles back, off the chair and onto the floor. The presence - the _creature_ \- is anything but human.

A dark, solid cloud, massive and menacing. It has no features, but its mass swirls and changes, sometimes forming a face, and its eyes are white and shining. It looks as if it comes from the abyss, its darkness spreading and consuming every source of light in the surroundings. It is featureless but amidst the void, he can see a gaping mouth, vicious teeth and claws that can eviscerate him in one swipe. He feels like he’s being sucked into it, but he knows he’s not moving. Graves feels faint and insignificant before it.

The creature grows, larger and larger, looming over him until it covers the entire room. Its formless body fills the space, envelops his body. Graves can’t fathom what is happening.

He hears it speak, a strange unintelligible language, but its voice sends a piercing pain in his ears and he thinks he’s broken. His brain is failing and his senses are dead.

He thinks he’s going to die again.


	2. Rangka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence makes his appearance. He's terrifying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Rangka (pronounced _rahng-kah_ ) meaning 'skeleton' in Malay

Percival Graves wakes up to the stark white of a hospital ceiling. He is confused, and tries to move, but his body refuses to cooperate. He feels exhausted and sluggish, and his brain isn’t working so well. He can’t collect his thoughts, everything is unfocused. He just feels numb and tired, and the bright lights (the window?) make his eyes ache and his vision blur. 

He feels his heart beat fast, pounding against his ribs and almost sends himself into a panic, until a nurse comes in with a doctor. Graves doesn’t remember much, but he feels scared - no, he feels a sense of deja vu.

But something is different. Tina is there, beside him.

“Oh, Graves,” Tina sobs. She’s crying now. He feels guilt without knowing why. “Why didn’t you come to me, to us? We could have helped you get through it.”

Graves doesn’t understand what she’s talking about. He just stares at her without saying a word. His throat is too dry and rough, and there is a faint sense of nausea.

He later finds out that he’s apparently attempted suicide by overdose. Tina says it is a miracle, because God must have sent her to go check up on him only to find him on the floor unconscious. Graves doesn’t say a thing because he’s not religious, and he’s still confused.

Did he really do that? He doesn’t think he’d do such a thing, at least not from what he remembers. But he can’t even recall what happened before. The last thing he did…

He can’t focus on a single memory. There is nothing that comes up in his mind after reaching home from an appointment, the one Seraphina had him go. He feels a sense of loss, but he doesn’t understand why such an emotion is there. It is a strange feeling to have, as if the forgotten memory is something crucial that should have been kept with him.

He hates the feeling of emptiness that follows, and hates even more that he’s being put under watch for something he doesn’t remember doing. 

He hates that he has to go through more days in the hospital.

It takes a lot of his time, and people are more careful with him. Tina visits him almost everyday, fiercely determined. Queenie seems to add more sugar in his treats. Even Seraphina drops by more often. He’s not sure if he likes this, but he goes with it. He just wants it over. He wants his normalcy back. 

He doesn’t remember anything before, but he remembers the shadow figure in the fringes of his vision. He’s forgotten the significance of it.

Graves plows through the following days.

Days and days of recuperation, being monitored, evaluated, and all that nonsense. The experience is longer and more painful than what Graves remembers being in a hospital is like.  But it beats the time when he was shot to the chest, he supposes, though he can do with more freedom. At least those wounds have healed, and hasn’t affected his arm. He’s worked hard to get back to his feet. 

He makes sure the Captain sees it. He  _ needs  _ to get back to work. He can’t stay in a bed all day. Every time Seraphina drops by, he slogs to convince her.

They’ve known each other for a long time. They trust each other, and Sera knows he does his job well. She is reluctant, obviously. She mentions that he seems so much different from how he was after he got shot by Grindelwald. 

He was like a haunted being, she says, someone dying from seeing too many nightmares, drained of their soul with each passing day. Tina has said the same. He had looked like something had possessed his mind with paranoia and something frightening. They don’t understand the change, and Graves doesn’t comprehend it either, but they all accept it and move on.

Part of the job, Graves insists, and Sera agrees reluctantly. Tina, as usual, gives him a worried look.

Seraphina agrees to let him come back to work and it’s mostly out of pity, but Graves takes what he can get.

He’s back to work within the next month and Tina is back at his side. She is apprehensive and reticent at first, even getting yelled at by the Captain for questioning her judgement. 

Graves almost laughs at how familiar everything is. Tina is still a greenhorn, Seraphina is always busy and yelling at people, and he’s glad his desk is still occupied under his name. He resumes work like a duck to water and all is back to normal.

 

* * *

 

He sees things. He sees a dark shadow hanging over every perp they arrest. Sometimes he sees them on his colleagues. Tina has a shadow, but it’s a shadow of light. The same goes for Queenie when she brings them coffee with a sweet smile. 

Graves looks in the mirror, but he sees nothing. He suddenly expects to feel something, or someone, but he’s not sure. He tries not to pursue the thought. Everything has been going well.

Sometimes he catches himself staring, and he tries to stop being so obvious. He fails, because Tina confronts him about it. She looks very concerned, and Graves has to remind himself that they think he could relapse into another attempt. He smiles at her and tells her it’s fine. She doesn’t smile back.

The shadows continue to haunt him, but they’re just distractions. They seem familiar, as if he’s seen them before, but he doesn’t recall. It scares him when he thinks about it.

It only comes back to him when he sees a young man in the waiting room. 

He is dressed in black, an oversized black sweater and matching black pants. His hair is a bowl cut, shaved close at the nape; it fits well on him somehow. He's so young that Graves almost mistakes him as a boy barely out of his teens, but when he looks closer he can see the sharpened features of a full grown adult. 

It is Tina who approaches the boy first. He seems afraid and small, his eyes sad and shoulders hunched. Tina assumes he needs help, probably even thinks he's a lost boy needing help to find home. 

“Are you waiting for someone?” Tina asks, always kind and gentle. The boy gives her a watery smile, before he turns his gaze to Graves. 

Something clicks into place. 

“Percival Graves,” the young man says, and Graves thinks he sees shining white eyes and the curl of a smoky, red-black mass around the boy. He's seen that before, somewhere. He steps back, startled. It is not a human form, the thing that he sees. It’s large and looming. 

Graves blinks, and it’s gone. Disconcertingly, the boy smiles wider. As if he knows. 

“My name is Credence,” the young man stands to introduce himself to Graves. He is much taller than one would expect from his appearance. Graves feels dwarfed by him, despite the difference between them is small. The older man stares back, speechless, almost mesmerized by something peculiar about the boy. There is no shadow or light over him, but the vision he thinks he’d seen before remains unsettling. Just hearing his name sends something coiling in Graves’ stomach. 

 

* * *

 

Credence is blinding. Graves can't look at him, almost literally. He doesn't know why, but the feeling is accompanied by a sense of awe and fear, as if this being in the shape of a young man is something much more monumental.

Tina has left them alone to talk. She has given him a peculiar look when she's noticed him avoiding the boy's gaze. He can't tell her that the boy is shining and blinding his eyes, so she assumes he's shy. The boy is  _ pretty _ after all. 

“I'm sorry,” Credence says and Graves is thrown again. He's been feeling confused a lot more often lately. He hates the emotion because it leaves him helpless. 

“Do I know you?” Graves asks, sharp and nervous. The boy is making him uncomfortable, and it seems like he's not the only one anxious. The young man looks as out of place, hands gripping the hem of his sweater. 

“No. And yes,” he says mysteriously. “I was there when you were shot.” 

Graves perks up immediately, and it's the first time he's looking into the boy's eyes. They're no longer a strange white. They're an attractive bronze that glitters like gold under the light. The sight steals his breath momentarily.

“You were supposed to die,” Credence continues. He speaks strangely, stilted and afraid and as if unused to conversing the language, but Graves doesn’t detect an accent. He just sounds like he hasn’t spoken much. “I couldn't let that happen.”

“You saved me?” Graves asks, his voice rough. How did noone notice a witness? How did Tina miss the boy when she found him? 

“Not in a way you think,” Credence adds as he ducks his head and looks to the floor. His long fingers fiddle with the stray threads of the sweater. He looks like a scolded child and Graves continues to be puzzled. “I extended your life, without permission. You were scared and you were dying. I didn’t want that. I wanted to help.”

Graves stares at the boy in disbelief. What was he even saying, extending lives? Graves laughs but it sounds humourless and more of an exhale. The boy flinches at the sound. 

“I-I'm sorry, because you suffered, after that,” Credence keeps on talking, as if he hasn't said the most ridiculous thing. “When humans come back from that, they're not whole. Their eyes are open. M-most humans can't handle that. It is too much for you to take in.”

“What… what are you talking about, Credence?” Graves tries. He can barely even say the boy's name, its meaning not gone unnoticed. It scares him to think about it, to put such trust in a strange boy who came out of nowhere.

“So I took it back, I had to close your eyes or you'll die again, “ his voice cracks and he’s nearly sobbing. He looks even smaller in his clothes, all pale skin cloaked in black. Graves doesn't stop himself when he places his hands on the young man's shoulders. Nothing makes sense, especially the words coming from him, but the boy is sad and scared and it had always been in him to comfort, to help. The boy almost jerks away from his touch like a frightened animal, but makes himself relax.

“Credence. I don't understand, what are you telling me?” he tries not to squeeze the young man's shoulders in his frustration. The boy looks up again. His eyes glow white again. He thinks he sees a gaping mouth and horrific fangs. He feels the overwhelming dread and might of the creature, and almost loses his breath.

“I’ve forfeit my life for yours.”

The words are foreign to Graves but the weight of them grips him and leaves him frozen. He doesn’t understand what the boy means.

“Your life?”

“I was only supposed to observe, not to interfere,” the boy says. “The balance is off if I do, so I gave it up.”

It starts to click. The thing that was watching him, and all the creatures he’d seen. His heart had stopped when he got shot, but they got him back. The second time he got sent to the hospital, he’d almost died again. And that smoke he saw over the boy… 

Despite the absurdity of what the young man has said, Graves knows they are the truth.

The boy is not human.

Graves knows this now.

But Graves is unsure what to think of this being’s confession. He has never thought himself as a truly good person. He’s no saint to deserve a second chance. He’s made many bad decisions. He’s hurt a lot of people. He has anger problems and a bit of an addiction with alcohol.

The man - being -  _ creature _ \- looks to him with a tentative smile, but it’s something sincere. Graves cannot accept it. 

Yet he brings him - it - home and offers it shelter, his guest room and some clothes, but he can’t give him anything more. Graves hides in his room and under the covers of his bed. It is too much. The young man - creature - thing -  _ what even is it?  _ \- has given him too much, and Graves can’t give back enough. He is only human.

How can someone pay back the price of a superior being’s life?

He can’t even fathom the world he’s seen before, that had nearly driven him to madness. Along with Credence, he's remembered all those creatures, all those things, all those shadows over other people. They are something that exist, but not for lesser beings like humans to know. He recalls the dark cloud-like mass, its deafening screech and the sensation of such fear in the presence of something so powerful. And that same creature has come to him in the form of an anxious, unassuming young man.

He should have died, why did Credence choose to give him another chance? Graves doesn’t dare ask.

He had been afraid of death, but he didn’t ask for this, did he? The mind-crushing paranoia, visions of nightmarish creatures were just too much all at once. He just wanted to survive but given the chance this way, he feels undeserving and he feels the weight of unsaid expectations. His sanity had been a price, who knew if it’ll take over his life again? A cruel, selfish part of him hates Credence for bringing all this on him.

Graves prays it is all a dream.

 

* * *

 

Credence is there, still. On the bed in his guest room in the clothes Graves has lent him. He still can't believe Credence wasn't human. Something so much more than that, above his inferior understanding. It is intimidating to think about it.

But when the shade of Credence’s other form shrouds over him -  _ colossal, commanding, consuming _ \- Graves recognises its presence. It is true after all. It is the same being that has haunted him before. The same shadow figure that had lingered in the corner of his eyes, always watching.

Credence was - for the lack of a better word to describe the title - an angel. Credence explains that there is no word in the human language that is equivalent to what it is. They aren’t even angels in the same sense of what humans think, with their corrupted religions and twisted ideologies. They are beings that come from something far too old to name in contemporary speech. Credence says, that if it were to utter it in its origin, it would shatter his senses and destroy the weak-willed within the vicinity. 

Graves remembers the piercing cry of the black mass before. His ears had felt like they had imploded, and his entire body failing, splitting from inside, like it can’t contain the power that reverberates within the sound. That must have been it. It is unbelievable to think about it again, but the very same being is before him. There is still a sliver of that same aura in its presence despite its meek appearance. 

_ He _ , Graves tells himself.  _ Not ‘it' _ . 

“I’ve looked after many humans in my existence,” Credence says, voice quiet, almost a whisper. The words that spill from his unusually red lips make him sound ancient and unnerving. “You are the only one of the very few who gave me something.”

Graves doesn’t question him or the truth of what he's said. He’s not sure if he wants to know what it is that he’d supposedly given Credence. He doesn't dare to ask all the questions.  _ Why did you save me? Why would you give your life up? Why did you choose to come to me? What do you even want from me? _

Perhaps the reasons are just too far beyond his understanding. But the creature in his kitchen is now a human, and he is fragile, made of flesh and bone and raw emotion. He has a distant gaze but he looks at everything with a sense of old wisdom and also childlike wonder, as if he’s seeing everything again for the first time. The creature just looks so young and ephemeral and delicate, and Graves can't help but describe him a boy.

Graves runs away from his thoughts, escaping the ethereal being who is just too much for him, and hides in his work.

Tina gives him a look but makes no mention of the strange boy they met yesterday, but she offers Queenie’s dinner leftovers. He doesn’t comment that the amount seems to be for two people. They are delicious, and Graves hadn’t planned to cook anything, especially with Credence around, so Graves accepts. He is adamant in focusing on his work though, and doesn't allow Tina the chance to even utter a word in. He ignores the way the  _ things  _ seem to look his way more, as if they've sensed a change. Even the light that hovers over Tina appear to tilts its head at him. It's frightening to feel all that attention on him. If he thinks about it, it will only bring madness, so he holds his breath and ignores them all.

The day goes by too fast while he worries about the creature in his apartment.

He later finds himself home with a Tupperware of a cooked meal and silently shares it with Credence. Credence flinches at the sound of the door, but it seems like he is jumpy at everything. Like he isn’t used to his body, and everything just seems too much. He avoids touch and has a nervous jitter that befits a frightened animal, despite that Graves knows he’s much more than that.

It is strange, but they have dinner like it's the most normal thing to do. He wonders if Queenie will be blessed and gets a golden ticket to heaven for making a former angel smile with her cooking. The boy had looked confused at the act of eating itself, at first, but Queenie has great taste and Graves sees that Credence agrees with it. The boy picks up his plate and offers to clean the dishes, and Graves can’t refuse him, not with his bronze eyes and red-lipped smile. Not with the shade of his other form obscuring Graves’ vision.

They don’t talk, especially not Graves, but Credence remains.

He is always there, and they have dinner together every night when Graves comes home from work. Credence is like a ghost, quiet, but now he makes sounds like a human would. A surprised gasp, footsteps, shuffling of clothes that Graves has given him. He stays in his room most of the time, but it feels more like he’s staying small, trying to keep himself out of the way. But he is visible too, and Graves can see him even with them avoiding each other. Graves can really see that he is a solid person. He is real. He’s no longer a literal phantom, and he has a human face. Graves has to remind himself that. It’s hard to, when he still sees the shadows over people and sometimes see bright white eyes instead of bronze.

Graves drinks. A bit more than he should, than his usual. He drinks after work to keep his vision blurred so he won't see _ them _ . He buys some and drinks more in his room, door closed, so he won't have to see  _ him _ . The shadows have grown prominent in response, as if they know, but Graves has found a way to cope. Even if it's an unhealthy way. 

Credence keeps the apartment clean. He even clears the bottles Graves has emptied and placed carelessly everywhere, is considerate enough not to even say a word about his habit. It is a change Graves had not expected when he brought the boy home. He expects the boy to leave, when Graves doesn’t communicate, especially not speak with him verbally, only leaving him food so he won’t starve his human body. He expects the boy to be angry for not giving him more than just a place to stay, not even offer him a proper friendship but just a cold, trembling shoulder. He expects the boy to be disgusted by his behaviour, drinking and slurring to forget and avoid problems. He expects the boy to regret his choice and steal what Graves took, and get the life he’s given up back. 

Despite how gentle and pleasant the creature has been, Graves still expects him to take his soul as payment.

Graves knows he’s being cruel, irrational and selfish. If Tina were to see how he treats the boy, he’s sure he’ll get a yelling and an extremely icy shoulder for weeks. If she were to find out about the alcohol he's consumed to escape, he's sure she won't be the only one screaming at him. Seraphina, as aloof as she is, would demand his badge. He knows he's walking a fine line. His job, his sanity at stake, and he questions why he even brought the creature with him and allowed him to keep staying. He's brought the fear and paranoia on himself.

Graves knows he’s being terrible, but he is still afraid to talk to him, still afraid of the things Credence might want in exchange for the life he’d given him. He's not ready to accept that a creature so powerful would give up so much without expecting anything in return.


	3. Syurga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graves is still afraid of Credence, but he's trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Syurga (pronounced _shoor-gah_ ) meaning 'heaven' in Malay

Work is work. Cases come and go, and some grow cold. Humans still commit crime and atrocities, some out of ugly emotions, like anger and hate, others in desperation and even something that could be beautiful, like passion. Others with such apathy that Graves can't relate or comprehend it. He still sees the shadows, and there’s more of the dark creatures that latch themselves onto the people he arrest. But Graves notices it’s not standard.

He’s expected the dark creatures to attach to malicious, nefarious persons, but he’s met some of the vilest humans with a shadow of light over them while even the sweetest child has something dark. He supposes that means these creatures aren’t a telling of whether they are right or good. Sentient things that probably choose and cling to something they fancy.

He wonders if Credence is a creature of light or dark. The blackness of his cloud form tells him the obvious, but the blinding white eyes could mean something else. He is an enigma, and it is anticipated for a being such as he, but Graves isn’t sure what to think of it.

Graves still can’t look at them, these creatures that are still too much for his human sight and human soul, and he’s found himself avoiding other people’s gaze like he’s the one with something to hide. Tina and the Captain say nothing, if they even notice.

Some cases are too heavy, and he brings home that heaviness with him, along with the stench of alcohol which he can’t seem to stay away from. Credence is there, food ready for dinner. Graves never asks when he’d learned to cook but he does the grocery shopping and the food is made when he gets home. The cooking had been bland, at first, but Credence somehow learns, and it gets better, that Graves actually enjoys it. He doesn’t say a word about it. They eat, and he knows Credence can tell when he’s bothered. He doesn’t speak, as usual - he knows Graves doesn't want to and he's been painfully considerate about it.

Yet sometimes it feels like Credence’s presence is a little comforting. The blinding light that keeps his gaze away becomes something warm instead. It’s warm and comforting and moves something in him, and Graves decides to stop drinking. It makes him feel better but Graves is still too much of a coward to thank him.

Tina elbows her way into Graves’ apartment one night, with Queenie and Jacob in tow. She is adamant in not taking no for an answer, and has two others backing her up. She might even call up the Captain, whom Graves knows would love to meddle in his life too. He’s touched that they care enough to invade his home to force a dinner party on him.

Graves is nervous, because while he’s informed Tina of the young man staying with him, Graves still hasn’t really talked to the boy beyond simple requests of _pass the salt_ or _what do you want to eat_. And it’s been a couple of months that Graves has had him under the same roof.

Queenie greets the young man with a brilliant smile, and Graves thinks the woman is a former angel herself. Jacob shoves cakes and bread into Credence’s hands, and both husband and wife coo over how pretty and delicate the boy is, and _Has Graves been starving you, you need to eat more!_

Credence looks shy and overwhelmed by the attention, but he speaks and he still sounds strange and his voice is rough with disuse. Graves hasn't noticed it until now.

Tina is staring disapprovingly at Graves as if he’s the reason for it, and she has that glint in her eye that promises him a long talk. Graves doesn’t understand how she’s more like a mother hen when he’s her senior. He pointedly ignores her until they start eating.

They have dinner and thanks to the Goldsteins, it is a lively affair. Graves has never seen Credence smile that much. It only pulls harder at his chest, shoves more guilt onto him that he hasn’t treated the boy fairly. He doesn’t fail to notice the looks the young man throws at him, and Graves isn’t sure what they mean. He dreads what comes after their meal.

The Goldstein sisters are clever; while Queenie and Jacob occupy Credence, Tina holds Graves aside to talk.

“You can talk to me, Percy,” Tina says gently. He knows she is mindful and that he's known for a suicide attempt, even if it was accidental. He doesn’t really like that name Percy though, but it’s okay for some people to use. It’s a good thing Tina is one of them. “It’s about Credence, isn’t it?”

Graves doesn’t answer, and it’s clear Tina knows.

“Are you two alright? I know he’s a little young, but...”

“We’re not… we’re not like that,” Graves hisses. He doesn’t know what they are. He’s just giving the creature - the young man -  a place to stay. He can’t possibly tell Tina he’s a homeless former angel who became mortal because of him.

“You’re not?” Tina looks surprised. _Too_ surprised. He hates that he almost likes the thought of the possibility. “You can’t be blind to not see how he looks at you?”

“No,” Graves grunts. He’s seen it. He’s heard it. He can’t accept it. It’s too much. He doesn’t deserve it.

“And you know you’ve been looking at him weird?”

“What,” Graves say flatly. He’s really not aware of whatever it is Tina sees on his face.

“It’s like you’re either scared of him, or in love with him. Though I think Jacob can relate to you on that,” Tina says nonchalantly. Graves can’t believe what Tina is saying. He has nothing to say, and just shrugs. He doesn’t comment on how Tina is implying that they look like the lovebird couple that is her sister and her husband. His lack of response bothers Tina.

“Percy,” Tina tries again, and she looks really concerned this time. “Are you okay?”

Graves looks at her, and he knows he’s staring, mouth open like he wants to say things. So many things. _I’m scared of Credence but it’s not his fault. I’m a coward. I should have died. There are so many things we don’t know about this world_ . _It's beautiful but terrifying. He is -_

She looks sad when he shakes his head no. “How is Credence?”

“He’s - he’s fine. Just a quiet boy,” Graves answers, finally, but it’s a lie. Tina seems to know, or she just assumes whatever comes out of his mouth is a lie. She wouldn't be wrong.

“You haven’t talked to him much, have you.”

“It’s complicated.”

“How can you say no to that face? He looks like a puppy,” Tina sighs, throwing a sad look at Credence’s direction. Graves follows her gaze and sees the boy laughing. Their gazes meet, and Graves tears his eyes away. He hears Tina hum; apparently she noticed that. “He likes you. Or at least care for you.”

Graves almost laughs, managing a broken grin, instead, maybe. _Enough to give up his life for a mortal one._ But it’s what Tina says after that makes Graves grimace.

“But something’s off…” her words trail to another thoughtful hum. Her brows furrow as she comes to conclusion. “He doesn’t look well.”

Graves looks again to where Credence is, still smiling and laughing quietly with Queenie and Jacob. He thinks the boy is better off with someone else who could keep him happy. Graves sees the cloudy white eyes and the ghost of the darkness behind him. Graves blinks it away with a shaky breath. His throat is dry for a drink, preferably something alcoholic. He risks another look.

Credence looks distant, and there it is. Tina is right, how has he not seen it? The boy looks pale, more so than he usually is, in the sickly sense. He’s no longer blinding. The light is dim.

 

* * *

 

Graves summons all of his courage. He's better than this.

“How are you doing?” he asks one day, and the surprise in the young man's expression makes his heart ache. How terrible has he been to a figure so extraordinary? If there is a hell, he deserves it.

Credence gives a dithering smile and Graves averts his eyes as guilt pools in his chest. “I am fine, Mr. Graves.”

It is not much, but it is a start.

Graves tries, he really does, to overcome his fear of the creature. He has to remind himself that Credence is human now, nothing to be afraid of. White eyes and smoky tendrils won’t swipe at him. The extra chance he’s been given is to make amends. He tries not to think of the significant debt in his hands.

It makes living easier. Graves doesn't have to avoid the other person in the house. Credence has begun to speak better. He even goes out for grocery shopping in Graves’ stead. Sometimes Graves makes the effort to join him and bring him his usual corner.

He sees less shadows now. He feels less fear, lighter, and more whole.

But Credence remains, and the light that had been dim begins to glow bright again, which is comforting.

Graves still can't meet his gaze, though. It’s proven much harder to do. The young man’s former shape is something that Graves knows won't go away. Credence is human, but he retains the mark of a being much more significant.

It is a reminder, to him, the first time he sees Credence speak to a shadow that is attached to its host. Credence is in the queue with him at the grocer's. The shadow’s claws are etched onto the head of the person next in line. His neighbour, who seems oblivious, with his nose buried in a magazine.

Credence and the shadow figure are talking, but it's not in a language he understands, or even hears. He feels a mild pain in his head as he listens to their strange conversation, but it's not like the time Credence's mass spoke.

Their exchange is brief and seems trivial but it ends abruptly. He thinks he sees the shadow person look at him, but it has no features. Yet he can feel eyes boring into him. He’s terrified; the first time one of those _things_ saw him staring it spoke to him and pierced his brain with its voice. It's a being with a nightmarish presence and unfathomable power, bringing frightful images to his head, but it's not hostile. Credence steps in and blocks his view of it, and the feeling disappears.

Credence looks apologetic, but Graves doesn't ask and pays for their purchase.

When they reach home, it's Credence who speaks first. He sounds nervous, always does, when he speaks to Graves. He hates how it makes him feel.

“Are you still afraid of me, Mr. Graves?” Credence asks. He has a fragile smile, like he's trying to hide the pain in his words.

 _I am,_ Graves thinks. He hates that he notes the word ‘still'; it's clear the young man has been so aware. He feels his hands tremble but he clenches them tightly into fists. “No,” he answers firmly, but he's struggling to look the boy in the eye.

Credence smiles at his answer and says nothing more. They continue their routine, silence accompanying them.

It feels like something has changed, Graves can feel something different, just a little bit. He’s apprehensive of it, but he knows it’ll hit him.

Credence has become a normality in his life. It's either Graves who has noticed less, or Credence who is becoming more human. Grace’s attempts to talk to the boy helps both of them. He starts to look into the eyes that no longer glow white, he’s less pale and Credence speaks more fluently, more used to the human language and as if his vocal chords are latched properly in place, finally.

Graves never noticed how much better it sounds. It's welcoming now, and so familiar. Even the few times Tina visits them, she comments on Credence's appearance. How he's less withdrawn, more sure of himself, like he's clearly accepted his existence. She had assumed he was a very shy boy, she's mentioned that she thought he'd been an abused victim when she first saw him, her cop instincts kicking in. Graves doesn't comment on it, but he agrees about the change in the boy.

He feels content, feeling like he's helped shape that. He dares to ask now, to sate his curiosity that had plagued him and Credence is as ready to answer. If anything, he is pleased by the company and the conversations.

The creatures he sees, Credence explains, the ones that seem so human and not, live like humans do, just in a different way. Their forms are just a conjuration of what they absorb from the tangible world, a grotesque mix of what they see and absorb. Humans and other living creatures are the heart of this world, while they are like the mind, and their appearance reflects it.

It doesn’t make sense to Graves, but it’s intriguing. The look in Credence’s eyes captures his attention as he speaks of the world, share a knowledge that mortals probably shouldn’t know about.

Graves wants to ask about the shadow figures that follow humans around, but he’s not brave enough yet. It feels like it’s something too private. But Credence seems to have read his mind. He casts his bronze eyes down, lips pressed in thought.

“Not the messengers of a god, as some humans believe,” Credence begins. “But we watch. A sentinel, of sorts, but we don’t interfere. We just make sure the lines between humans and non are separate.”

A guardian angel, then, Graves thinks. Terrifying ones, he adds.

He begins to note things. He can’t look at them, not directly, but he can see, how it differs from each one. Some hold their humans too closely, others keep a safe distance, but there is always something linking between them. Their forms can change; most take shape of something humanoid, but there are also others that take on stranger forms.

Graves starts to observe.

He notices Tina’s light sometimes look like it’s covered in spikes. It flares up occasionally, like a ballooned cactus, and Graves has to step away to avoid it. He doesn’t see Sera’s figure, hers is vague and fleeting. It’s black, but there’s also light in it, in the few times he does see it. The shape deforms into something long and serpentine and winds around her. Graves thinks it’s the fiercest one he’s seen. He’s glad he doesn’t meet the Captain more often.

It brings him back to Credence, whose original form is amorphous like a cloud. It’s got an edge of a voracious appetite and exudes danger. Protective, or something savage. He wonders how it is as he clings to his host - to him. He hadn’t asked, but he wonders if the humans they watch are chosen or assigned. The way their different worlds works is too vast and convoluted.

He thinks on the feeling he gets at the possibility that Credence had chosen him, specifically. He’d probably watched him his entire life, saw every part of him, all that he’d done, and still he chose to give up his status to give him a second chance. He feels the weight of the debt again, but he’s less afraid of it. He’s not sure what he can do to make up for it, but he figures he should try.

 

* * *

 

He takes Credence shopping. Not for groceries, no, they can’t have Whole Foods as their place to go to avoid awkward silences. Graves even makes time for it, taking a day off, to the surprise of Seraphina. She gives him a doubtful look, at first, and he rolls his eyes when she suggests getting Tina to chaperone him.

Tina smiles at him like she knows, she always knows, because she gives him a wink and tells him to have fun. And he’d thought Queenie is the only psychic. Graves tries not to feel like he’s going on a first date. He’s just decided he should get the man proper clothes that fit him, instead of Graves’ hand-me-downs. He hasn’t treated the boy right, and it’s about time he did.

Credence is sheepish, when Graves tells him to pick out something. The boy had been quietly ecstatic when Graves offered him to go get him things, fervently denying at first, but Graves had been insistent and he’d relented. Credence has no idea about clothes, but he likes long sleeves, and usually dark. He always wears the terrible work shirts that are oversized for him, too skinny compared to Graves. The expensive designer cuts doesn’t even work in making the boy look good when it’s the wrong size and colours that mismatch his frame and skin. And he’s never worn any t-shirts; Graves realizes he’s not seen any skin above Credence’s wrist.

Graves remembers when they’d first met; the boy had worn a black oversized sweater, the neck of it something wide in a scoop cut that revealed his delicate collar and a peek of the ribs on his thin chest. Graves pictures the boy probably likes something that covers his form like a hug, in the dark colours that remind him of his other shape.

Graves knows how to look good at least, so he can help the boy out with it.

By the end of their trip, Credence has been gifted with a pile of new clothes. Graves has made sure to include a splash of colour at least, or the boy would look more like a cloaked phantom than a real man. The boy looks lost, carrying all those bags, like he doesn’t know what to do with them. The puzzled look is endearing, somehow, and Graves feels the need to show this being more of their world.

They eat dinner outside for the first time. A decent casual dining Asian food place Graves sometimes drops by. Credence looks a little perplexed by the flavours, and the spice makes his lips swell a little redder. Graves tries not to laugh and he hasn’t felt this relaxed in a long time.

Credence admits he prefers the food at home, or by people he knows, like Graves or Queenie. He prefers sharing food with people he can call friends. Graves is touched by the compliment and smiles, really grins for the first time to Credence, and the boy stares at him with a flush to his cheeks he’s never seen. It makes the creature look even younger, and pure and innocent that is the complete opposite of his true shape. But it’s a shape that Graves has seen so many times, grown to be synonymous to the boy, because essentially, that _is_ Credence, no matter how terrifying it is.

He is a puzzle, mysterious and of smoke and riddles and wonder. Ethereal and delicate but savage and all powerful, and Graves had been so afraid of this majestic being because he can’t live up to the boy’s expectations and the worth he’s put on him.

“Thank you,” Credence says, with a smile so bright, the visage so blinding it’s like staring straight into heaven. Graves doesn’t look away this time.


	4. Malaikat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence is human, is he not?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Malaikat (pronounced _mah-lai-kaht_ ) meaning 'angel' in Malay

“Credence,” Graves calls.  “What do you want to eat?”

A simple question, but Credence likes it. He likes to be given a choice. He likes that Graves is looking at him. He likes that Graves is talking to him. Credence enjoys the company, but he still doesn’t have his heart.

It’s a pity and it’s a struggle, when Graves is still so afraid of him. Credence had known that it won’t be easy. He didn’t really expect much when he’d torn off his metaphorical wings in trade for Graves’ second chance at life. All he wants is to be acknowledged at least. For Graves to know he exists, and what he’s done for him. Getting a thank you from Graves is all he asks.

But he can barely get Graves to hold a proper conversation with him, and he still can’t talk good either. The human language is a little funny, too harsh and tangible for his mind, and he still doesn’t have a proper control of his facial muscles sometimes. His jaw creaks and his tongue feels swollen. His limbs are too long and his skeleton feels like a cage. When he looks at his reflection, he sees a human far too young, cheeks a little too hollow, and skin too pale and sickly compared to the others. Graves is a little tan, much more filled out in his chest and arms where Credence is lanky and thin. He feels like a mannequin, yet to get used to his joints. His true form had been so much more comfortable, all smoke and formless and free. 

It had been an ordeal, in his first few days of being human. The first thing he noticed when he awoke was the loss of his Authority, which almost made him feel a little empty from the lack of power in his core. The next he’d realized, was that he’d found himself sprawled somewhere unrecognizable, his human body feeling like a meat suit and dead weight. He’d made humanoid forms when he was still an angel, because that was a presumably friendly shape to Graves, who could almost see him. Credence had tried to be careful to keep himself out of sight, but the man had been extra vigilant and Credence felt rather guilty that his presence and appearance only further terrorized the human he’d tried to help. But taking that shape in his original body and having a physical, tangible vessel were completely different sensations.

His first instinct was to seek Graves out. The man had been his very reason and purpose of his existence in the human world after all. His mind was still reconstructing itself after being dragged out of their plane and into the mortal one. His body was oversensitive, the human senses too sharp and loud for him that he flinched and shuddered as information came in waves. His sense of touch had been acute and unpleasant, which was why he’d avoided everything. The emotions he had as an angel hadn’t felt so  _ raw  _ before either, but as a human it feels much more substantial and concrete, and it actually affects his physical body too. Anxiety and panic crippled his body momentarily, and he felt tears, water spilling from his eyes. He’d seen humans crying before, but he hadn’t thought it would feel like that. It felt almost impossible to control the waves of emotions and sensations coursing through his now-human mind. Credence had breathed and waited for himself to collect his thoughts and being, before he began to move. 

When he had first seen Percival Graves as a human, it was an indescribable feeling. The man was with his partner, Tina, whom he knew as kind and helpful. She was the one who approached him first, but Credence couldn’t resist bringing his eyes to the human he’d saved. 

Credence can still remember the Kiss he’d left on the man’s cold lips as he died. He’d made his choice back then, and Credence pulled back Graves’ soul and planted it back to his body with the same press of lips knowing full well of the payment of his actions. 

Credence remembers smiling. He remembers Graves staring at him with a look of recognition. He hadn’t thought what he would do if Graves rejected him, but Credence knew the man, knew of his kindness despite the rough, cold exterior. But he hadn’t expected Graves to actually welcome him to his home.

Yet he feels a little heartsick as each day passes and he watches the man he's fallen for hide from him. He is aware that while he's closed the third eye that had been opened, Graves can still see some things. It still terrifies him and it's expected, because humans are such delicate creatures, their souls weren’t meant to bear such burden and knowledge. It is why they needed  _ them _ to watch over, protect them from the creatures not of their world, and they'll be there when they die to connect their soul back to the cosmos. 

Credence had been there when Graves died. But he was the one who couldn't agree to the man's fate. He'd heard Graves’ thoughts then. A lonesome creature full of regret and want and he had been lovely even with the blossoms of red splattered across his body. 

Graves was so  _ human _ . He'd seen few creatures in his existence like that, despite the many lives he'd observed. Most humans he'd watched had been too good or too anachronistic. He'd seen some of them commit murders, abuse, start wars. The good ones always tried so hard to make a change, and while some were successful, most failed in the face of this cruel human world. He'd been interested in some of them, both good and bad; intriguing, fascinating inferior beings with varying ideologies and beliefs.

Graves wasn't too different, but he carried himself with strength and purpose and determination that Credence admired. It had been many human years since he'd last seen a human so brilliant, that he couldn't help but grow fond. Maybe it's because Graves was a refreshing face, someone with such strong morals and grip on himself that he did his work dutifully, yet unable to help make mistakes. Credence could sense anger, pride, shame, a strong sense of justice and also some self-loathing. Graves was a mess of righteous paradoxical emotion and so complex in such a human way that it tugged so strongly at Credence's heart.

Time had given Credence the ability to grow. Graves had given Credence emotion. 

He'd watched over the human named Percival Graves all his life, watched him from young and aged into the adult he is now. He remembers the man as a child, enjoying hero stories and growing up driven by the same joy. An innocence that was attractive, warped by the harsh world but still so pure in its core. Perhaps it's fate that this particular creature is the one that brings out the special thing called love in him. 

Credence had almost never interfered in a mortal’s life. The repercussions were severe to keep the balance, and the last Credence remembered having done such was for a human with a funny name. Something that sounded like an amphibious critter. But that human had been so kind, so pure-hearted and compassionate for the creatures he loved that Credence had almost stopped his death too.

He did, but only for a short while. 

The human could not take the weight of wisdom forced on him with his third eye open. Credence let him go, reaping the soul and releasing it back to the cosmos. 

He remembered pain, pieces of himself eaten as punishment for abusing his Authority. The scales had been tipped, and he had to pay a price.

It left him empty for a long time, as he watched more humans die under his watch. 

 

* * *

 

“Are you still afraid of me, Mister Graves?”Credence asks. The question seems to shake the human before him. He sees the uncertainty, and it breaks Credence’s heart. 

“No,” the man says, and Credence smiles at his answer. How kind. He wants to believe him, and he does, slowly. The man had seen him speak with another of his kind. The shadow angel had been curious about his current state as a Fallen; he is a rarity, of course, but Credence hadn’t wanted to speak much of it. The angel had turned its gaze to Graves, who, having sensed its sights, immediately stiffened and Credence could tell the fear was crippling him. It scared him, still, and it was unavoidable. 

Graves is treating him better at least, still keeping their gazes connected. Credence knows the man can see his true form sometimes, when there’s that fear in his body language. Credence feels a twinge of guilt. But it’s slowly going away. Graves is trying to be better, and Credence feels his human heart beat faster, the feeling in his chest warm. 

His observations of humans had helped; he rarely went out of his way to learn everything about them, but he’s picked up certain things. Using his physical human body had been a challenge at first, working his fingers to hold things, gripping tools and cutting, mixing, cooking. He’d taken the initiative to make Graves dinner; the first time went relatively well, though the food was bland. Credence didn’t know how tongues and tastes work, but he’d watched Graves add spices and salt to his food and copied the action for future cooking. The food that Tina and Queenie gives them helps too. 

It had been effective, and Graves eats the things he cooks. Enjoys them, instead of just an obligation. Credence is content even when the man avoids his eyes and speaks little to him. It had felt lonely, but he is with Graves and that had been enough.

Credence was surprised when Graves’ colleagues came for dinner. It had been an impromptu decision, apparently, as Graves had looked as unprepared as he was. He met the Goldstein sisters, Tina, Queenie and her husband Jacob. Credence had met them before of course, as an angel, watching how good and pleasant these people were, and how Graves can be very protective of them. He just hadn’t expected to meet them face to face.

All of them are lovely. Too kind. He saw their light guardians and it suits them, glad that they’d been chosen by a creature who are as untainted as they are. They don’t interact with him, but they do acknowledge his presence, and Credence does the same. He had liked their company and they made him laugh. He’d wished Graves had joined them at that moment; he wanted to hear the man laugh. But he was talking to his work partner Tina, and they seemed distressed. Credence had hoped he wasn’t the cause.

It still bothers him.

Graves now though, seems to find Credence easier to be with.

They talk more, and Credence feels more rooted to the earth. He feels pleasant and warm, and the emotion of joy spreads through him. He hasn’t felt this human emotion in a long time since he’d been born there and invited to Graves’ home. He welcomes it. 

He just hadn’t expected for the man to be home one particular day too, when he should be working.

“We’re going shopping,” Graves says and Credence feels his brows rise and then furrow in confusion. He could have gone to the grocers himself, but Graves shakes his head. “No, we’re going to get you some new clothes. You can’t be wearing mine forever.”

Credence wonders if the human realizes his choice of words but doesn’t mention it. He’s both excited and nervous about doing something new, yet he doesn’t want Graves to waste money on unnecessary things. He’s fine with the clothes Graves lent him. He’s liked being clothed in the man’s scent. He tries to reject the man’s offer, but Graves is insistent and Credence can’t deny him. He goes with the man, but he’s got no idea about human trends and clothes. He only knows that their society are terribly prudish about the naked body.

The day is a blur. Credence just points out to clothes he thinks are nice - generally long, flowing or baggy clothes that reminds him a lot of his true self. He likes the ones with hoods, with long sleeves and thick fabric that hugs his physical human body like a glove. He feels a sense of nostalgia. He is aware Graves is observing him, and the man initiates more conversation, guiding him to possible palatable clothing that supposedly suits him better. Credence has no idea, but since Graves himself is a beautiful man and knows how to dress himself up - which of course, Credence can tell, for he is not blind, and he's lived long enough watching humans to form his own tastes - so he goes with his suggestions.

Graves showers him with gifts of clothing, more than Credence anticipates and he feels himself blush, an automatic response to the feeling he has that’s swelling in his chest. He’s not sure if he even needs this much, but Graves is being kind and giving him attention and rewarding him. Credence smiles.

They even have dinner outside and the experience is enlightening. Credence has never been happier. It’s a sensation that reminds him of flying free in his true form. And it’s only when Graves finally,  _ truly  _ smiles at him that Credence knows that his decision has not gone to waste and his mortal life is well worth it.

 

* * *

 

Credence still sees life and death even as a human. He doesn’t know if he’s supposed to; he's never met any Fallen apart from himself but he figures being a former angel would remain through the rest of his mortal life. He can still see the things, the creatures that Graves is afraid of, and interact with them. They recognize Credence for what he once was and sometimes they greet, or they sneer or they don’t care. Credence doesn’t mind, as long as they are not hostile.

He will still protect Graves, but he isn’t sure if he is capable of doing so as a human. Now that he’s given up his status, the man is without a guardian and is more prone to getting approached by those with less than peaceful intent. 

Realisation comes to him when he sees a roadkill, sprawled over an empty road. One of the creatures is sprawled over it, feasting on the remains and lingering soul there. An insect-like creature, larger than a dog. Credence watches it as its mouth and serpentine tongue laps up the blood; it doesn't affect the world physically, so the pool of red remains stagnant, but the creature is sated all the same. The creature him staring and looks up, only to snarl defensively. It’s harmless, so Credence leaves it alone.

He comes home -  _ to Graves  _ \- with bags of groceries and sees the man asleep on the sofa. A spirit - one of those creatures is there, looming over him, studying,interested in his once damaged soul. The Resurrected are special, vulnerable, they give off the scent of something different. In a more clichéd human saying, they give off the aura of something  _ touched by an angel _ . Credence feels his body vibrate like it's about to burst into a black fog.

He hears himself yell, _ order  _ the creature to stay away, or else. The thing is startled and backs away, before it realizes that Credence is human, no longer a being with higher Authority and power. It stares at him, and slowly, its thin mouth spreads into a fanged smile, something not quite human. Credence feels his physical heart stop, when he realizes the creature is not afraid. That it enjoys knowing he's no longer have dominion over it. 

Its oddly shaped limb splits into a claw. Credence is reminded of the creature and the roadkill. He can't allow it.

Credence dashes forward, and he feels his body thrum with something else. He feels light, he feels the current of power. He sees the familiar smoke of his true form. He's not aware what his instincts are doing as he lunges towards the creature, but soon Graves is awake and he looks bewildered. 

There's blood and there's remnants of some ashy substance, and the smell of sulphur. The groceries he's bought are scattered on the floor, and there are signs of claw marks on the furniture too. He's managed to injure the thing before it harmed his human. Or killed it, Credence didn't care. It was his job to protect, no matter the result. He'll keep doing so even if he's a human. 

He's not sure what he is now, something in between. 

“Credence,” he hears Graves say. The man shifts away from the sofa he was resting on. There's concern, and a little bit of fear. “You're bleeding.”

The black matter of his smoke has disappeared, cleared from his vision. Credence blinks and his vision clears completely. He looks down, and oh - black soot upon his hands and there's blood, seeping from wounds along his arms, like animal claws or knife marks ripped through his sleeves and to his human flesh. The pain begins to sink in and he's shaking. 

It’s the first time he feels pain like this as a human. He hates that the body is just so solid and tangible and connected, making sensations like pain all the more intense. But Credence recognises too, what this means.

It's payment for breaking the balance again. He is allowed to call upon his Authority, but he has to pay for it. A temptation so easily reached but an extremely sharp double-edged sword. It doesn’t help that human lives are so woefully short and delicate. 

He's barely cognizant when he feels Graves pull him up. He cleans up the blood, the wounds, so carefully. He hears the man contemplate on calling an ambulance out loud, but how can they explain it? He hasn't explained to Graves what even happened. 

Graves eventually decides to do it himself. He's careful with Credence and handles him like glass. Credence isn't sure what to feel about it, but it's his first time being cared for, have attention given to him like this by anyone, let alone the human he Fell for. It helps with the pain. He feels himself smiling. Graves sees it and looks away, appearing both puzzled and embarrassed, somehow. 

The man cleans the wounds but he says some might need stitching. They might have to go to a clinic. Credence agrees, he doesn't know about all this anyway, but the pain has dulled. Graves still hasn’t asked Credence what had happened, what had left those marks on the furniture and that pungent smell and all the black stuff on his hands. Credence looks at the cuts, the gashes that look like some beast has mauled his arm, and he thinks he sees his familiar smoke seeping out of them. 

“Not truly human, then,” Graves suddenly says. It startles him, and also Graves too, as if he hadn't meant to say it out loud. The man apologizes and bandages him up. His thick brows are furrowed and he looks angry, at something. Maybe angry at Credence for the mess, for the trouble, and for the damage to his safe place and his psyche.

Credence, though unsure what the man meant by that, feels a sharper ache in his chest instead. 


	5. Bintang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence is his guardian angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Bintang (pronounced _been-tahng_ ) meaning 'star' in Malay

Graves had not expected to wake up to see Credence covered in soot and blood and arms covered in claw marks. He’d been awoken by strange noise and the pungent smell of rotten egg hitting his nose. He’d seen a glimpse of something dark entangled in Credence’s hands. He’d seen a glimpse of Credence’s mighty form - a large, indescribable creature that seems infinite, grand and overwhelmingly black - curled over a smaller, pathetic creature with strange claw-like limbs and a fanged mouth twisted into agony.

Credence killed it, crushed it with a swipe of his hand, his white glowing eyes ablaze with something unrecognizable. Graves sees the young man’s arm split and it’s like pieces of his flesh claimed by _something_. He’s bleeding and the wounds are gaping but Credence remains frozen, eye beams boring into the spot where the other creature had been. There’s nothing but black soot, spread over the sofa he was resting on, and on Credence’s sickly pale arms like raven blood.

Graves had given him first aid. He’d patched him up the best he could but he was no doctor. When he spoke to Credence the boy had been shaking. He decided not to ask for an explanation. He saw and had presumed. The boy is too shaken from the blood and the wounds, and Graves could only imagine the pain, and wondered if angels felt pain like humans do. Then he saw the black smoke from those gaping cuts and he’d blurted out something insensitive, maybe.

Credence smiles at him, a fragile expression that makes Graves want to cry. He doesn’t know how to handle this. He’s - he’s grown to care for this creature. His gentleness, his meekness and his delicate smiles. He’s like a child trying to please a parent, like a teenager trying to impress his crush, like a man trying to court the heart of someone he loves. And that hits Graves deep in his gut. This angel has become alarmingly human in that sense, and Graves had been too afraid to notice it.

What he sees right now is  just pain and worry, and the blood mixed with black that he knows doesn’t belong to their plane. He’s cleaned Credence up and brought him to the doctor, and they had to get stitches for him. Graves is familiar with the doctor there, and the staff knows of his job so they don’t ask questions. They just look to Credence with pity mixed with compassion. He wonders what they think of their relationship.

They go home without incident and without conversation. It’s a heavy silence, and Graves still has most of his gaze downcast, away from monsters. He has Credence by his side, and without him realizing he has the younger man tucked by him, and his arm around the man’s shoulders protectively. He notices Credence holding his breath, but he’s not sure why. He also doesn’t know why it feels right to do that, when he’s sure the young man could protect himself… he did say they are guardians.

But what about in the human world? He can’t see the boy fighting back a human if they were to get mugged, or stop a drunk driver from crashing their vehicle into him, or even shelter himself with an umbrella from unfavourable weather. The young man is still so - fragile. A few days ago he hadn’t even really known what to wear without Graves shoving clothes at him.

Graves had been afraid when he saw Credence is his near full glory then. But he’s grown to be fond of him, with the things he does. He’s cleaned for him, he’s been a silent observer and a silent guardian, even if Graves hadn’t known of his existence. What changed is that Graves knows he’s there now, he’s here, with Graves and he’s vulnerable and the debt Graves have felt, Graves needed to pay it back, and he can do this now. Protect him while he’s open and from the humans who could do him harm while he’s down.

Yes, he can do that. Maybe this is how he can live up to what Credence had paid for him.

He tucks Credence into bed, a very rare gesture. Even Credence himself looks shocked, lips pressed tightly and trying not gape in surprise. He stares at Graves as if expecting the man to do something, uncertain and nervous. He looks away when Graves does look at him, head hung low and fingers curled into the knees of his pants. Graves sits before the boy, knelt on one knee while the other is seated on the side of his bed in his guest room - Credence’s room now.

Graves decides their avoidance of the elephant in the room has gone long enough. He asks, “What happened?”

Credence looks down, as he usually does so. “One of them tried to hurt you,” he replies quietly. A blink, and he sees the massive black figure again, but it’s gone after his shuts his eyes again. His presumption had been right then. Credence _had_ killed the creature, but it had been to protect him. His guardian angel. “I had to protect you. Even if I’m human now, that duty remains.”

“Did… that thing do this to you?” Graves continues to ask. He finds his hands holding Credence’s, cradling them carefully, palms up, covered in healed over scratches. They look painful, and he hears the young man’s shuddering breath.

“No. It’s punishment,” Credence says quietly. He clenches them into fists. “I shouldn’t have done that, it tips the balance, just like when I brought you back.”

Graves feels his face twist in confusion. He remembers Credence mentioning about this balance. The same balance that made him human. “Punishment?” he tries, unsure what he’s even asking. The boy bites at his lip, an absent-minded gesture he must have learned from somewhere, as he attempts to explain.

“It’s… complicated,” Credence mutters. Graves sighs, too mentally exhausted from the whole panic and anxiety that came from seeing the young man covered in unexplained soot and blood. He wasn’t supposed to know anyway, but he just feels so helpless. He holds Credence’s hands, careful not to press into the cuts, ignoring the whole-body flinch that the creature often does when it comes to touching, and implores him in a low, quiet voice.

“Please, Credence. I want to know,” Graves begins, trying to catch Credence’s gaze. If he sees the strange white orbs - he’s not going to look away. “I want to know why you got injured like that, and that thing that I saw - you killed it, didn’t you?”

“It wanted to hurt you,” was Credence’s immediate reply. His eyes were brimming with tears, always so emotional, in a way as if he can’t properly get a hold of them, keeping nothing back. “When I Fell, you’re left without a guardian. I have to keep you safe, no matter what.”

“No, you don’t have to,” Graves tells him, feeling that squeezing ache in his chest. Why is this creature so bent on protecting him, saving him? “Credence, I don’t - I don’t deserve having you in pain, giving up your life like this. I’m not - “ Graves can’t say it, but he has to, he has to spill it out to make sure they’re clear. “I can’t live up to whatever you’re expecting of me. You didn’t have to extend my life like that.”

“Please don’t say that,” Credence interrupts him, lower lip trembling. Even when he cries, he’s so delicate and perfect and Graves can’t believe this creature. “I brought you back because I couldn’t stand to see you die. I wanted you to keep living, to find happiness.”

Graves can't understand it. He doesn't want to. He doesn't deserve this - he doesn’t deserve Credence. They stare at each other, and Graves just can't talk. He’s the first to look away. “Get some rest, Credence,” he says instead, carding his fingers through the younger man's raven black hair. Surprisingly, Credence leans into it, but his eyes are back to looking down, avoiding Graves’ gaze.

“Please don't leave me,” he hears Credence say. His voice was so small, Graves almost missed it.

“No… no I won't leave you,” he promises, but he feels like it's more than that. He stays until the boy falls asleep.

 

* * *

  

Graves leaves for work after he's sure Credence is alright by himself. The young man insists he's fine, and that he will heal fast so that Graves wouldn't worry. The man just nods to that and strokes his head; he's been doing that lately. Credence finds that he likes it. The man is no longer afraid of him, right?

Credence pulls on one of the new sweaters Graves bought for him. It's a little oversized and baggy, but fashionably so, according to Graves, with a splash of blossom red at his shoulder for added colour. It has a soft hood around the collar, and its long sleeves are fitting but not uncomfortable against his bandaged arms. Credence decides to cook something nice tonight, and looks through the little recipe book Queenie and Jacob bought for him.

Fortunately the human languages are easier to understand in written form. Credence has learned to write too, though it's mostly by himself. It was just a matter of controlling his digits, too long and spindly for him at first but he's gotten the hang of it. He still finds his handwriting atrocious though.

Credence writes down the needed ingredients for him to buy from the grocers, ignoring the stinging pain in his hands and arms. He sets out with the money Graves has left for him within the hour. He needed the fresh air too. Credence didn't want to worry about Graves after that attempted attack. The man is surrounded by people, so those things won't attack him unless he's alone.

Tina is there with him. She'll look out for him, the gentle kind soul that she is. Even her guardian is as kind. They've never spoken to one another whenever they met, but the acknowledgement is there.

Credence does wonder how he looks like to the others, sometimes. He's never seen a Fallen, even in his long life. Unless they were so well hidden that Credence couldn't tell, but he knows the others recognize his former being, but in what shape?

He goes on with his shopping. The other creatures don't bother him, as usual. It's better that everyone else minds their own business.

It is only when he feels a presence that makes his core tingle that he looks up and around. The aisle he is in is empty. Credence thinks it's a familiar feeling and goes to look for it.

He sees other humans minding their own business. He doesn't sense anything from them. A little put out, Credence decides to leave it be and head for the cashier.

He heads home with the bags. They're heavier than he expected, and didn't think they would strain on his arms so quickly. He winces as pain shoots through his arms from the still healing wounds.

"Do you need help?” someone says, and Credence nearly jumps. He's still not adept at his human senses. He turns to see an attractive older man, shoulder length auburn hair and a pair of kind, blue eyes behind a set of full moon glasses.

“N-no, I'm good thank you,” Credence quickly replies, flustered. No other human has approached him before. He smiles shyly and ducks his head, before he notices something about the man.

“I insist, your arms seem to be in pain, are they not? At least allow me to carry them for you to the next bench,” the older man says, eyes twinkling with kindness. Credence can't refuse and nods.

“Thank you, sir,” Credence tells him as they walk to said bench just ahead, not too far from where they were.

“‘Sir'? How very formal,” the man chuckles quietly. Credence doesn't say anything, just embarrassed, though he knows the man is merely teasing. He is uncomfortable though, as he's realized this man is the source of the tingling sensation earlier. “You may call me Brian.”

“Brian. A noble name,” Credence murmurs to himself. He's still trying to figure the man out. He doesn't have a guardian either.

“May I ask your name, young one?” Brian asks, still gentle. Credence thinks this mysterious man feels old, and wise, and much more than just an old man and the way he speaks is familiar…

“Credence,” he says, and he blinks up at the man.

“A faithful one,” the man compliments. They reach their short destination and Brian sets his bags down. “There you go. Do take care my boy.”

Credence is speechless for a moment before he thanks the man profusely. The man named Brian leaves him with a smile and Credence isn't sure what to think of his encounter with the stranger. What he does know is that he recognizes the shadow of sorrow and heartbreak lays over him like a veil.

 

* * *

 

Graves is so done with paperwork. He feels restless, needing to go out there and stretch his legs. Tina comes by work a grim look, a paper cup coffee in hand. Something must have happened.

“Grindelwald had a visitor,” she says as she passes him the cup. “You look like you need it.”

“Thanks,” Graves mutters, taking a sip of the hot beverage and grimaces. It was no organic coffee, that's for sure. Tina grins at his expression. Cheeky. “You were saying?”

“Right. Visitor,” Tina sits down across him, pulling up a chair. “He registered his name as Al Wulfric. From what the guards said, the Grindelwald called his visitor by a strange pet name. ‘Honey bee’? ‘Bumble bee’? Something. Never heard of him and we checked, but we've got no records on the man.”

“One of his followers, maybe?” Graves asks as he pulls on Grindelwald’s file. He wasn't head of the case, but one of the members in the team to track the man down. And he hadn't thought of the mad man since he was arrested.

Gellert Grindelwald was an extremist, made known by his vocal ideals that involved the subjugation against a certain group of people. The department had tagged him as dangerous, but the man had yet to do anything more than spreading propaganda.

Only when they were informed by an anonymous tip that Grindelwald had something nefarious and extreme planned, that led to the chase, and then to Graves getting shot… He was that close to catching the man, but he’d brought out a gun, grinned at Graves and shot a bullet to his chest. They managed to convict him though, and he had a lot of charges and evidence against him, so Graves didn't think the man would be a problem anymore.

“No one has visited him prior?” Graves inquires, flipping through the papers. He still feels a little bit of residual pain in his chest.

Tina shakes her head. “Nope, just this guy. A family member, a friend… Even a lover? They were really close, from what the guards told us. It’s just that, it feels like something’s going to happen. Even Queenie’s telling me something doesn’t feel right, and you know her and her ‘women’s intuition’.”

“She’s practically psychic,” Graves admits. “But really, we have no business with him anymore. He’s behind bars where he belongs. Why’re you bringing this up?”

“Heard from Captain that she’s got news about his little Deathly Hallows group getting restless. No other news though, but his visitor might be someone important,” Tina tells him. “But like I said, nothing on the guy, his name’s not listed in the known members of Grindelwald’s group. He’s a high school teacher, apparently, but no connections with Grindelwald either, just... nothing.”

Graves can see she’s really concerned about it, and in turn, it makes him as restless, especially since the light being behind her rustles and its silhouette warps into something covered in thorns. He thinks of Credence, worrying about the boy a bit.

“Thinking of Credence?” Tina teases, giving a knowing smile. Graves sighs and ignores her. “How is he? Heard from Queenie he’s been cooking for you.”

“Jacob’s been stuffing the boy with sugar and Queenie’s been stuffing my fridge with Tupperwares,” Graves grumbles, though it’s hardly with any heat. Tina grins and slaps him in the shoulder.

“Don’t be such a grouch. You love it,” Tina laughs. “Captain’s telling me she sees you smiling more. _And_ she ordered me to tell you to go home on the dot.”

Graves doesn’t deny it, even if he’s scowling. He’s eager to go home and see Credence. The boy was up and well when he left, but he was still worried. His arms were a mess and he didn’t want the young man to push himself.

He returns home to find Credence dozed off at the dinner table, with tomato pasta laid out. He must have cooked again, and Graves can see the peek of red in the younger man’s palms. He put his jacket away and gently shakes the boy awake, something warm in his chest as he watches those long lashes flutter to reveal golden bronze, looking up at him sleepily. “Hey,” Graves says, feeling himself smile a little. Credence mirrors the expression, his sleepy face lighting up.

“Sorry, I dozed off,” Credence rubs at his eyes, careful not to aggravate the cuts.

“It’s fine. Have you changed your bandages?” The younger man nods. “You haven’t eaten?” Credence shakes his head.

“Wanted to wait for you,” Credence mutters, a little embarrassed. Graves sits beside him and they eat dinner quietly, stuffing his mouth with the pasta Credence had cooked so he won’t blurt out the few words that would change things between them.

They sit at the living room side by side after dinner, not too close but not too far either, just a seat away on the same three seater couch. Graves is watching TV - a rarity - while Credence is focused on a book, some criminology text Graves had from the academy. Graves finds his eyes straying to Credence instead of the movie playing on screen.

He feels the young man’s presence, palpable and proof that he is human, alive and with him. Graves has come to accept that Credence is human, and just something more. He doesn’t see the creature’s original shape much anymore, other than what happened last night. He’s gotten… used to it. Somewhat. It is still an awe inspiring figure, something too much for him though Credence, even in his younger, lanky human body, is something of a miracle himself. To Graves at least.

This creature - _this young man_ has changed him, Graves is aware of that. He’s less fearful of his new sight, and he’s come to accept himself. He’s even kicked his drinking habit and he eats home cooked meals nearly everyday. He’s eager to return home feeling less alone, that there’s someone waiting for him. It’s… something.

He sees Credence staring at him from the corner of his eye and looks up to meet his gaze. The boy ducks his head, shy, despite how close they are, physically. Graves worries his cold distance towards the boy when they first met will continue to keep them apart. He’s regretted his actions, but he’s been working on it, hasn’t he?

Their silence continues, but Graves worries less. It’s comfortable, no longer awkward. He shifts, inching just a little closer to the younger man. “How are your arms?” Graves asks, the TV now forgotten. Credence starts, fingers twitching over the book cover before he hesitantly looks up at him.

“They’re better, thank you,” Credence replies him with a tentative smile. Graves nods, responding with a relieved smile.

“May I?” Graves holds his hand out, offering to have a look. Credence lets him, readily. The bandages are new, but when he opens them the wounds have healed over fast, _too fast_ for a human, but Graves isn’t bothered. He’s relieved.

His hands linger over Credence’s arm for too long, but he doesn’t retract them. Credence is too pale, too thin, too cold even, like he doesn’t give off the right amount of body heat for someone living. _That_ bothers him. Graves finds himself wanting to keep the boy warm. Blanket him with quilts and sweaters he loves wearing so much. Feed him warm food and introduce him to the wonders of the world like books, movies, music. He wants to see the spark of curiosity and life in his honeyed eyes. He wants to bring out that old wisdom and also drink in the knowledge and words that spill from his red lips. He wants to see the warm flush on Credence’s cheeks and see him smile in comfort and joy. He _wants_.

Graves realizes he’s staring. Credence is meeting his gaze. They’re close, and neither seemed to have realized when they’ve leaned in and minimized the distance like this. Graves’ eyes drop to Credence’s lips, plush and red and beguiling him. He _wants to_.

He looks away. That’s not right. He shouldn’t be thinking of something like this about someone like Credence, something - someone so pure and good. When he looks back he thinks he sees disappointment in the younger man’s eyes before it flickers to understanding.

“I’ll be alright, Mister Graves,” Credence says, finally. He pulls away, their fingers sliding over each other’s. Graves misses the touch but he doesn’t reach out to keep them in his hold. He nods instead.

They resume their night quietly before retreating to their separate rooms.


	6. Langit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another couple of knocks, and Credence hears a voice.
> 
> It’s not human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Langit (pronounced _lahng-ngeet_ ) meaning 'sky' in Malay

Credence begins to see the auburn haired man named Brian more often. Either the man is new in the area or he’s just never noticed him before. He doubts that though, because the feeling he gets whenever he sees the older man is a little too strong for him not to spot earlier. Credence wonders if Brian is a Resurrected, due to the lack of guardian. He seems sad, despite his kind, strong demeanour.

Brian is friendly and genteel. They converse when they see each other, starting with just a few hellos, but soon they begin to chat a little more. Credence is happy to have made a friend. He never mentions Brian to Graves though. Strangely, they never seem to meet when Graves is out with him.

He finds out that Brian is a teacher, which Credence thinks suits the man perfectly. The man doesn’t seem to find Credence odd for asking questions that most humans would call strange. He is extremely patient and soft in his words. He even teaches Credence writing and give him books, mostly of the young adult kind, those that he used to lend to his students. Credence has learned a great deal, and he feels more confident in his words and writing, more used to his human vocal chords and the language that spills out.

Graves asks him about them one day, wondering if Credence had begun a hobby of buying or borrowing books because he recognizes that they aren’t his. They talk more too, conversation flowing easier with Credence more sure of his voice. It makes the boy happy, and Graves seem to appreciate it as well.

“They’re from a friend,” Credence tells him and he sees Graves’ brows furrow.

“One of those things?” the human asks.

“No, a human. We see each other when I go buy groceries sometimes,” Credence confesses, and feels a little bad, like he’s telling a secret. He feels a little worse, unsure what it means when he sees Graves’ brows furrow even more.

“I haven’t met them?”

“No…” Credence says hesitantly now, as he tries to figure out the expression on Graves’ face. Is he angry or worried? It makes him anxious, worrying that he’d somehow upset the man.

“Oh. Just be careful, alright?” Graves says after a moment. He stares at the book in Credence’s hands. “He must be very generous to be lending you those books.”

“He is a good man,” Credence agrees quietly with a small smile, unable to hold back the thought of how much the man has helped him. He notices the hard look in Graves’ eyes as the human stares at him. It makes him drop his smile.

“I’m glad you made a friend, Credence. I’m sorry I haven’t been around much for you,” the human says, patting Credence on the shoulder, a stilted action unlike usual. It leaves a cold feeling despite the warmth in the man’s hand. Credence reaches out to hold it, startling both of them.

“P-please don’t say that,” Credence blurts out, fingers gripping Graves’ hand, feeling the callouses in the pads of his fingers and his palm. “I just worry about you at work, but I know Miss Tina is there to look out for you.”

Graves still looks surprised by the bold move, but he smiles and relaxes, his fingers curling around Credence’s. “Thank you, but I’m alright. I’m worried about you too. I’m sure that friend of yours is a good man. If anything’s wrong, you know to use the phone I got you right?”

Credence nods, remembering the gadget the man had gotten him recently. An electronic that was quite simple to use. He’s thought of calling Graves sometimes, just to hear his voice, but of course he doesn’t. It’s only for emergencies, no reason to bother the man at work. 

They leave it as that, and Graves doesn’t ask more about Credence’s friend. However, he seems to make an effort to be home on time, more so than usual after the day of the conversation. They go out to shop more often, and Graves seems protective. Credence is unsure of the reason for the change, but he appreciates the company and likes that they are spending more time together.

After that night when Credence protected Graves from a spirit, they have become closer. More so physically, and Credence has become used to it. He’s no longer as jittery, and he’s gotten used to his human senses now, including his sense of touch. While Brian has helped with his conversational skills, the time spent with Graves helped him feeling more human and connected with the earth and the physical world. Credence especially enjoys the warm hands on him; Graves has large hands, and they’re gentle, comforting and grounding. He likes to pet Credence on the head, slide his palm over his nape and sometimes Credence thinks the man thinks of him as a cat. He’s seen the way humans treat their furry companions, and it makes the former angel wonder if that was his role? A silly thought, but most of these pets are loved and their companionship enjoyed, so he thinks it’s a good thing.

He just wishes they could be more than that, but the boy doesn’t want to be greedy. He’s happy enough to be by the man’s side, and the human seems to be just as content. 

But he can’t stay under the man’s roof forever now, can he? He wonders if he would have to pick up a job, support himself. Just because he Fell for Graves, it didn’t mean the man would have to support him forever. Graves owed him nothing; Credence did it all on his own volition. It was out of the man’s own kind heartedness that Credence is living with him. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome, or to be in the way. He did tell Graves that all he wanted was to see him live and be happy. If the man happens to find his happiness with another human, Credence would have to make way.

The thought makes his human heart ache, but that is his plan. He asks Brian about jobs and work, and the auburn haired man seems surprised by his question.

“A job?” Brian asks with a thoughtful look. “I suppose you can start with a part-time job. I think a librarian or a book sales assistant would suit you, Credence.”

“I don’t know how to go about it,” Credence says shyly, embarrassed by his lack of experience.

“Ah, no matter, I can ask around,” Brian tells him and Credence thanks him whole heartedly, grateful and glad to have found such a kind human to befriend. He hadn’t dared to tell Graves of his plans because he didn’t want to pester him when the man is so busy with work. He didn’t want to tell Queenie or Jacob either, as much as they do visit him sometimes when Graves isn’t around, because he’s sure their too good hearts would have them relay his worries to Graves himself. 

Brian still has that lonely feeling whenever they meet, though. It worries Credence, but he knows not to pry. Sometimes he looks distant and at times when they talk, the man implies that he has someone in his life, but would either correct himself or act like he misspoke. Credence recognizes longing and heartbreak. He’s almost been there too, and he’s watched enough humans in his lifetime to see it.

But Credence never brings it up. He knows it can hurt to talk about it. He just offers his company and they talk, and Brian shows his gratitude with his kind blue eyes, gentle smiles and worn books.

 

* * *

 

Graves is sent to investigate an unusual murder case. It's not unusual by any standard, but from what he can see with his sight. The victim had been stabbed in their own home, a small apartment. Nothing is out of the ordinary, but something bugs at him. There doesn't appear to be a motive. No missing items, no signs of sexual assault. The house was broken into and there was a struggle. A pre-meditated murder then.

Graves sees the other creatures move restlessly. He notices that all their eyes are on the dead body of the woman. They've never done that before. He finds himself staring at the lifeless body as well, trying to figure out the strange feeling, but he can't grasp it. He just feels a little sadder about the whole case than usual.

Tina tells him that the victim - a woman, middle-aged, a social worker who has no family - had no issues at work or trouble anywhere else. There are no leads, and Graves isn’t optimistic with the outcome of this case. He’s just unnerved by the presence of all the creatures in the room. He excuses himself out of the crime scene.

He finds himself dialling a number on his phone. He hears the line ring, and he waits, nervous with each passing second, until the other line picks up.

“Mr. Graves?” the familiar voice asks, sounding surprised. Graves sighs in relief and runs his fingers through his hair. He almost lets out a nervous laugh when he realizes how silly he’s acting.

“Hi, uh, Credence,” Graves says, unsure what to say now, having acted on impulse. He’s never called Credence on his phone, despite it been awhile since he’d gotten the gadget for him. He can almost feel the question coming from the man on the other end of the call. “How… how are you? Everything alright?”

“O-oh, I’m fine, thank you,” Credence replies, still sounding surprised. But Graves thinks he can hear a smile there. He feels himself smiling too. “I-I’m just thinking of what we can have for dinner. Do you… want anything in particular? I can ask Queenie to teach me or I can order in like you’ve taught me.”

Graves feels the familiar warmth in his chest at the question, aware that he’s grinning. “I’m fine with whatever you cook or want to get, Credence. You’ve been getting better at cooking anyway, I think you’ll surpass Queenie soon.”

“Thank you,” he hears Credence say, the sincerity clear in his voice. Graves can picture the rosy flush across the boy’s cheeks at the compliment. He wishes he can take the day off and hide away from the death and monsters waiting for him with Tina in the crime scene.

They hang up eventually, and even if it was the most awkward moment Graves ever had, it still left him feeling relieved. Credence was alright. He hadn’t known why he was so panicked earlier. He meets up with Tina again who, as usual gives him a knowing look as they get back to the office to continue their investigation. 

Seraphina calls Graves up on their way back. She tells him to meet her in her office. The same sense of dread comes in, though it’s partially that he might see Sera’s fierce looking guardian again. But he also thinks it might have something to do with their current case. He leaves Tina half way to see the Captain, knocking on her door just once before he enters.

“You called?” Graves asks.

“Grindelwald,” Seraphina answers flatly from her seat. Papers and folders are stacked and arranged neatly on her desk, immaculate and orderly as always.

“What?” Graves repeats, confusion all over his face.

“Apparently he heard you lived,” the Captain continues. She doesn’t look happy about whatever she might have to say to him. “And he wants to talk to you.”

“What for?” Graves snaps, the dread inside him growing. He blinks once, and the serpentine figure behind his superior appears. Another blink and it grows larger, and he can almost hear it hiss. He bows his head, almost automatically. It seems to have sensed his apprehension, but it doesn’t back down. Seraphina seems to be just on edge as well.

“He says his group is on the move and he can give up some information,” Seraphina informs him. She stands and walks towards him, and Graves tries not to flinch as the dark creature follows close to her. He hears it hissing again, and Graves thinks it’s talking to him. His ears are ringing. “Grindelwald will give up the information, on the condition that he gets to talk to you.”

“I’m not even the lead investigator of his case, just a support member who happened to chase him. I’m just the guy he shot,” Graves says, trying to meet the woman’s gaze. Seraphina gives him a weird look but doesn’t mention it, just answering his question. 

“We don’t know either, maybe he feels a sick pleasure seeing someone he’s shot. We don’t know what a mad man is thinking, Graves. We just need information, and he has it, especially since his group has been on the move despite having their leader behind bars,” the Captain tells him with a sigh.

“So I have no say in it?” Graves grumbles, trying not to glare at his superior. 

“We really need that information,” at least she manages to say it apologetically. Graves scowls under her look, but it’s not her he’s bothered by. The dark creature behind her is getting louder, and Graves just wants to leave. He doesn’t understand why it’s so outspoken now, when usually it ignores him. Its hiss is beginning to give him a piercing headache, almost enough to make Graves stumble back.

“Are you alright?” he hears Sera asks but he just nods, glancing to the thing looming behind her and all he sees are bright lights for eyes and a slithering tongue. Its hiss becomes a growl and Graves gets out of there.

“I’ll go see what Grindelwald wants,” is all Graves manages to say as he practically runs out, his heart beating. He hasn’t had any of those things become hostile towards him in a while. That just made him shudder, his head still hurting and his thoughts in disarray. Was it trying to say something? What was that all about? He doesn’t want to go back in there and even  _ look  _ at it. He collects his breath and gets his thoughts together.

He can’t understand the situation but he has to go. Sera will be asking for his report on his visit too. He heads for the prison where Grindelwald is held, still trying to decipher what that creature could have been trying to convey. He’s called Tina to inform her of what the Captain had him do, and she sounds concerned, telling him to be careful, not to give anything away. 

She knows he’s still affected by the shooting, even if he’s gotten better after all these months. He tells her he’s okay, and eventually he’s reached the prison where Grindelwald is waiting. He takes  a deep breath and enters the building, knowing he’s probably going to see a lot more than just human monsters.

 

* * *

 

Credence is still smiling from the phone call from Graves earlier. He hadn’t expected it all, and he didn’t expect the effect of the man’s voice on him too. He smiles as he does the laundry, taking his time to take each piece of clothing from the basket, smoothing his fingers over the soft cloth of Graves’ clothes and dropping them in the machine. His arms have already healed, but he likes taking it slow, taking in things one step at a time and enjoy the much shorter human life he has. Once that’s done, he sets the machine to wash, taking a little longer to remember how to use it. Electronics and machines are a little bit of mystery to him still but he enjoys learning new things, and he’s reminded of Graves’ patience in teaching him.

He lets that be and looks at the time, wondering if the man would be home late. He had sounded busy and a little awkward, but they had a decent conversation. He was alright with whatever dinner could be, so Credence decides he’d heat up some leftovers for them later. He hadn’t left the house that day, just doing household chores. He thinks of reading or attempt to understand the human entertainment airing on the TV. 

Credence is still in high spirits as he lounges over the couch, reading a fantasy novel about wizards and witches and a young boy with a scar on his forehead. He loses track of time, lost in the new fictional world, and when he looks up from the text, he realizes it’s gotten darker. 

And Graves isn’t back yet.

It’s not uncommon that the man returns home later than his usual hours, but he can’t help but worry, his protective nature prickling him from the inside out. He begins to feel restless, but he starts on dinner. He’s just laying out the leftovers (he feels bad that he doesn’t have anything fresh for Graves, but the man has insisted that it was alright) and hopes that the man would come home soon. He wants to hear his voice again.

Credence is startled by the sudden knock on the door. He frowns and feels a little wary. Graves doesn’t knock, and he doesn’t have visitors, other than Tina or Queenie or Jacob, and they usually call before they do. He stands slowly from the dining table and focuses. He doesn’t sense anything or anyone.

Another couple of knocks, and Credence hears a voice.

It’s not human.

Credence steps back. He hears the plates and the glass in the house clattering by some unseen force. The apartment is shaking, the furniture is moved, dragging across the floor by themselves and Credence sees a bright aura seeping through the gaps in the front door. He feels his own core bristle and his Authority shaken. This sensation is familiar. This is an angel.

The voice speaks. It’s asking to be let in, but Credence knows this isn’t a friendly visit. Whoever it is out there hadn’t hidden their intent. His own Authority is rattling. It’s a defense mechanism, but he knows if he uses it, he’ll pay the price. The creature out there is on a time limit too. There’s no way the balance would accept this.

But what has made it decide to do this? It would cost it its life if it were to do anything against the order and balance of the worlds. Credence retreats into the back of the house, trying to get to his phone to call Graves, but he’s too late. 

The door bursts open.

A deafening screech.

A deathly moan.

A blinding light.

Credence yells out Graves’ name. 


	7. Dunia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “They are not good people,” she whispers ominously. And just as she says that, the front door of the house unlocks and opens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Dunia (pronounced _doo-nee-yah_ ) meaning 'world' in Malay

Graves is calling Tina frantically. He doesn’t know why he’s so anxious, but he can’t breathe. Something is happening, but he can’t register it properly yet. He thought he’d heard Credence’s voice in his head. He’s called Credence on his phone the moment he has the number on the display, but Credence hadn’t picked up no matter how many times he’s dialed it.

“Graves! Hey, Captain asked -”

“ _ Tina _ ,” Graves breathes out and he knows he sounds broken, because his partner immediately clams up.

“Talk to me, Graves,” Goldstein sounds calm, in that mode where she’s in control and knows she has to do something. He can feel that she’s as nervous as he is.

“Grindelwald, he -” Graves tries to gather his thoughts, he’s panicking and it’s so unlike him, he can’t catch his breath and he’s hyperventilating and he doesn’t know where all this is coming from. All he’s thinking of right now is Credence whom he can’t get a hold of.  “Credence isn’t picking up his phone. He’s not - he knows to always keep his phone on him. I need-”

“Okay,” Tina says gently. “Okay, I’ll go check on him. Breathe, Percy,” Tina tells him. Her voice is soothing. He gulps in some air and answers an affirmation to her.

Graves repeats the action as he hangs up, still breathing hard. He’s doubled over some park bench after he’s nearly run out of the prison building, with Grindelwald’s knowing grin and strange coloured eyes on him stuck almost tangibly to his body.

Graves shudders as he remembers those eyes. The brief meeting he had with Grindelwald still leaves a cold chill down his spine.

“Ah, back from the dead, I see,” Grindelwald had said from across the glass. Just those words had sent a shudder through him, and Graves attempts to swallow down his anxiety and stare the man down, demand answers. But those eyes had him frozen, and Graves could feel them studying, observing and looking right through him. 

The blonde man smirked and that was when Graves realized: The man knows. The man can see him, his Sight.

And he knows about his Fallen, his Credence.

Graves didn’t even have a chance to return any words to Grindelwald. He’d felt fear and the memory of the bullet piercing his body replayed in his mind over and over again. He was reminded of the same grin on the wanted man’s face, mouth baring teeth as he fired the gun and almost killed Graves that day. The same day Credence had brought him back to life.

Graves had left immediately. Trauma, one would say. Confronting the source of it must have triggered him. He feels the pain in his chest from the bullet wound. He feels a splitting headache as he hears the whispers from the other creatures in the building, the volume getting louder and louder as if the sounds were gathering in his skull.  The guards who’d escorted him gave him a particular and concerned look but Graves brushed them off. He knows Sera would demand answers for his lack of report but he didn’t even think about that.  He needed out before he started screaming.

Grindelwald must have called him specifically for a reason. Could it be to confirm that he is a Resurrected, as Credence had called him?

No, no, that isn’t the point. Graves had slowly calmed down a bit, but he’s still gripping his phone, still trying to get a hold of Credence and dialing the number repeatedly. He feels the panic again when the line doesn’t connect each time, but stamps it down. The boy must probably be in the washroom or something, or he must have misplaced it somewhere in the house. He’s trying to be optimistic. Tina will be there to check on him.

Graves thinks back to Grindelwald, because he knows he’s noticed something else too.

The prison was expectedly filled with dark and light creatures alike. More of the dark, tainted and abhorrent creatures. Guardians that follow their humans, but also a lot of the creatures wandering freely are those twisted, spiritual beings that feed on the heart of the world. Some taking the form of deformed humanoids, others more animal-like, and some just nightmares. Graves had kept his head down, avoiding all eye contact and focusing on the meeting with Grindelwald.

Grindelwald… He saw the man, and the man gazed back at him with his strange eyes.

And he has no guardian angel behind him. Nothing, even when Graves had stared frozen and directly at Grindelwald who sat behind the glass separating them. 

The man is a Resurrected, just like him. Does that mean he has a Fallen angel with him too?

His phone rang and Graves picked up immediately, calling Credence’s name automatically. It’s Tina who’s calling instead, but it is her quiet voice that makes his blood run cold.

His way back to his apartment is all but a blur. His mind is focused only on the young man whom he’s been sharing a home with for months. Pale skin, rosy, cut cheeks and an angled jaw, with pink plump lips he’d thought of a bit too often recently, but it’s the eyes that Graves is pulled to. Once glaring white and held the power of something far bigger, but now softened to tenderness that Graves finds himself getting drawn by. Honey bronze and eager and innocent yet so old and wise with knowledge. He hadn’t thought anything like this would happen.

Credence was his guardian angel, who’d Fallen for him. Graves - isn’t sure if he knows why. He’s asked a lot, unwilling to think of a certain possibility why Credence actually did it. He knows he’s seen a particular emotion in Credence’s look that he hasn’t acknowledged yet but now - is it too late? Graves bites his lip, trying to keep his breath in and not lose his damn mind before he even meets Tina.

Graves stares speechless at the sight of the broken in door of his apartment, the shattered plates on the dining table and the toppled furniture around. Tina is looking nervously at him as she meets him at the doorway. She hands him the phone that Graves recognizes as the one he’d bought for Credence. The screen is cracked, but it’s still working. He sees numerous missed calls from his number. He keeps it in his pocket.

A couple of his neighbours from next door are there; Tina has questioned them but they say they didn’t hear or see anything. They offer Graves help or a place to stay when they see a glimpse of the state of his apartment and gives him a sympathetic stare, but Graves barely hears them. Tina dismisses them with thanks and tells them they’ll handle it.

There is a strange smell in the air as he enters the house that has become somewhat foreign to him as it lies in a mess. “I don’t know where this smell is coming from,” Tina says as she clearly holds her breath. She’s always been quite weak to smells. All sorts of things she’s seen, but it’s the smell that gets to her. Graves understands, but he recognizes this stench, remembers it: Rotten eggs - sulphur. 

He almost shudders violently as his thought strays to the murder victim earlier, something about the scene here as familiar as it was in that crime scene. His apartment is void of creatures, but he feels Tina’s sentinel is looking around the place with what Graves could almost identify as nervousness. His mind goes back to his meeting with Grindelwald. Fear and worry comes as expected - what happened to Credence? Is he in danger? He feels the fear and worry transform into anger and hate. Is this Grindelwald’s doing? Is that why he had them meet to keep Graves away from Credence? It just can’t be a coincidence. Soon Graves realizes he’s grinding his teeth and smashing his fist into a wall in anger. 

“Graves! Stop!” Tina exclaims, and then calmly brings his bloodied fist away. “Breathe, and tell me what’s going on. What do you think happened here?” She wants to help, it’s clear, but Graves is too incensed to think clearly, the red haze of rage still shrouding in his eyes.

Graves can’t tell her what he thinks anyway. This is clearly supernatural, involving one of those creatures. He can see Tina’s own guardian fidgeting restlessly, and hear it speak. It is offering, and Graves has made the mistake of not answering when Sera’s creature hissed to him before.

“I don’t know,” Graves manages to grit out. He barely feels the sting on his knuckles. His eyes stray to the being behind her as it moves, its form ever changing from a thorny creature to a deformed humanoid silhouette, switching back and forth, as if undecided what to do. He hears its voice, whispering and gentle. It’s clear it’s not hostile, but the very power in the sound buzzes his head.

Graves’ eyes are fixed on the creature now, the form reshaping to one more human, more friendly, probably, but Graves sees its mouth as a gaping hole as a sound escapes it. It hurts his senses at first, like a loud, deafening chainsaw, but it slowly softens, and he thinks he hears a familiar sound, like a word.

_ Danger _ , the creature hisses.

Graves swallows and blinks to Tina, who’s still staring at him helplessly and in confusion as to what he could possibly be staring behind her.

“We should go, Tina,” Graves croaks, his throat suddenly dry.

“Graves- what-” Tina is even more confused as Graves drags her out of the apartment hurriedly. He can sense it; something is coming. He thinks of Credence, he thinks of Grindelwald, and the moment he steps out he sees one of those dark creatures hovering close, watching them. It is big but humanoid, with numerous red eyes and a wide mouth, but it doesn’t come close. He almost chokes in surprise but he hears Tina’s guardian snarl at the dark being, and the thing moves away albeit slowly. Something is out of balance and it’s freaking him the hell out. His worry for Credence is rising with each passing second.

“Please tell me what the heck is going on!” Tina forces Graves to stops him determinedly. She’s yelling right outside his apartment building, getting the notice of passers-by. Not just humans, the creatures too. Her guardian forms back into a prickly creature, bloating dangerously. 

“I can’t, I just can’t-” Graves tries but he’s interrupted by Tina’s phone. He’s relieved for the interruption but she’s still glaring at him even as she takes it out. She sees the name on the display and answers it promptly.

“Yes, Captain? Yes, Graves is with me,” Tina says, glancing at Graves, looking a little grim. She gapes at whatever their boss says, looking uncertainly at him again, before she hangs up with another affirmation.

“What?” Graves snaps, hating the look of dread and concern in his partner’s face.

“Grindelwald escaped.”

Graves stares at her for the longest time before it registers. “Well, fuck.”

 

* * *

 

Credence returns to consciousness feeling pain everywhere. His bones ache and his entire being feels sore. His head is pounding, ears filled with the chatter of the lesser beings in the world. He thinks he hears Graves’ voice amidst them and feels brief comfort in it.

_ Wake up _ . 

His eyes flutter open,  slow and hesitant. He sees a little girl. She's young, no more than 10. She has a certain air about her. Credence sees healing scars on her arms similar to his. A Fallen who's used her Authority as a mortal. She looks sickly and afraid, but he senses strong will. 

“Hi,” Credence finds himself saying. The girl looks confused by the greeting but she responds with a bemused smile. 

“Hello,” she replies. She isn't shy. Credence realizes they're alone in a dark house. “You're quite new, aren't you.”

“Yes,” he says and sits up, wincing. His body feels like a giant bruise. His core flickers and his Authority feels weak and it's concerning. At least he didn't use it; he sees no sign of the balance taking pieces of him.

The Fallen girl sits with him on the floor. She takes the form of a young girl because her original form is young, but it looks like she’s been human longer than him. The house is empty but it is clear people are living in it. It is just old and smells musty. Credence sees the front door down the narrow hall but he senses a seal there. There's no way to break through without using a large amount of power. He's reluctant to attempt it. 

“Is this your home?” Credence asks instead. He doesn't know if the girl is the one responsible for taking him away. It must be a mess right now, and he worries about Graves, wondering if the man is pulled into this, if he's home right now and seen the state of his house. 

“No, he died,” the young girl says sadly. Credence realizes she meant her human as her home. He feels a pang of sympathy for her. “I'm called Modesty now. What’s your name?”

“Okay, Modesty. I’m Credence. Can you tell me how I got here?” Credence tries, hoping she's not hostile. Modesty’s face falls, and she looks around carefully before she leans in. 

“They are not good people,” she whispers ominously. And just as she says that, the front door of the house unlocks and opens. 

In comes a woman, with a bobbed hairstyle and a stern, intense expression. Her entire appearance is prim, conservative and controlled.  A younger woman trails behind her with the same bearing, but more of a subordinate, hair tied in a neat bun. She looks extremely pale, her eyes sunken and blank, but she keeps up a stiff upright posture, showing controlled strength in her step. Credence sees no guardian behind the first woman, and senses it's the younger behind her who must have been her former angel.

Their presence makes Credence uncomfortable and he sees Modesty shift back, head lowered albeit reluctantly. 

“Awake,  finally,” the woman speaks first. Her voice is quiet but sharp. “We'll not waste anymore time. You have to be cleansed.”

Credence doesn't like the sound of that. He looks nervously, still on the floor, body heavy and slow to respond. His gaze shifts from the woman to her Fallen. He knows they're the ones who took him. 

“Please,” Credence implores, attempting reason. “I don't know what is going on. There is no need for this. Please let me go.”

The woman's gaze doesn't leave him.  She steps closer, and with Credence watching from the floor she appears giant, towering over him with her presence alone. Her eyes are cold. Credence has seen those eyes on numerous humans before. He stutters, fear building inside him. 

“P-please -”

_ Slap.  _

His cheek burns, his head pounds and his neck aches from the force of the smack that landed across his face. His core glows but he feels the young woman’s burn brighter, daring him to.

“You need to be cleansed. Falling from Heaven only to be sullied by filth and corruption of man,” the woman hisses. “I can only question your decision to fall into temptation.” 

The Fallen woman behinds her smiles,  it is as cold and blank as her eyes but he can pick out the pain. Credence sees the glimpse of deep welts and scars from the cover of her long sleeves that aren't from the Balance.  

“Come, Chastity. We need to show him the Good way,” the human woman calls to her Fallen and she obeys. Credence hears Modesty whimper behind him, and he thinks of Graves.  

 

* * *

 

It’s a mess. Graves is somewhat detained under orders by Sera who thinks he might lose it any moment. She doesn’t want him running off with his own vigilante justice and making an even bigger mess of everything. He was the last to see Grindelwald, and his house had been broken into, and Credence is missing. They think it’s connected to Grindelwald, though there’s little proof and could all just be a coincidence. Graves agrees with them though, for who else would target Credence, especially with the creatures involved?

He’s restless, pacing about the office, where Tina is watching him. She’s biting her lip, and fidgeting in her seat, just as nervous. She’s called Queenie and Jacob and told them to be careful, informed them that Credence has gone missing and they relay their messages and hopes to Graves who is too restless to really listen. He’s worried out of his mind. The shadow creatures stay clear of him, for some reason, but the guardians stare at him and he hates it. Graves hates them all. He just wants everything to leave him alone and return Credence to him.

An officer suddenly comes in. He says someone is here to see them. Graves nearly scrambles.  _ Credence? _

It isn’t, of course. It’s an older man, with shoulder length auburn hair and blue eyes framed with vintage full moon glasses. Graves notices he has no guardian. In his rage he immediately jumps on the man, ignoring the officer and Tina’s yelps of surprise.

“Where is he?” Graves snarls, grabbing the man by the collar. The man is surprised, but mildly so, as if he expected it. He is calm, and his hands hold onto Graves’s wrists and with unexpected strength as he brings them away. Graves feels a wash of calm overcome him and he’s breathing heavily, staring at the auburn haired man.

He blinks and he sees blinding bright light, nothing he’s ever seen before. Not even Credence had light this intense, this  _ massive _ and Graves almost buckles under the power of the creature holding him by his hands. 

“What…” Graves gasps, squeezing his eyes shut, turning his face away.

“I am Credence’s friend, Brian,” the man says. He sounds kind, understanding, not forceful at all despite the strength in his grip. Graves looks helplessly to the officer and Tina who were looking concerned, unsure of the situation. He owes Tina so many explanations.

The man speaks for him instead. “We need to speak privately,” the man claiming to be Brian -  _ Credence’s friend _ , Graves reminds himself - continues. His blue eyes are directed to Tina and the officer. Tina isn’t convinced, she’s stubborn and she wants to know what’s going on.

“I’m sorry, sir but if you have any information on Credence, you need to-”

“Please, my dear,” Brian says. Graves feels something strange in the man’s voice. It’s gentle and coaxing, but it’s  _ very  _ persuasive. He sees Tina’s face soften and relax in an odd manner, and then both her and the officer nod before walking away, leaving them both alone.

“You,” Graves starts but he’s struggling to look at the man. He feels like he’s back to square one again, cowed by the immense presence of this creature. “You know where Credence is?”

“I don’t, unfortunately,” Brian replies, remorseful. “But I would like to help.”

Graves stares at the former - angel? - unsure and distrustful. He doesn’t know if he really is the same friend Credence had mentioned of. He regrets not asking a name before, temporarily blinded by shameful jealousy. But Graves is more worried that they’re wasting time and he needs to find Credence before anything bad happens to him. He doesn’t even know what is going on, but someone might be out there targeting Fallen angels if what he gathered from the crime scene before is right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies that the wait for each chapter is getting longer. My mental health has been rather unstable. Also, to be truthful, I'm writing the story as I go with no proper plans and it has now evolved into something more than just 'guardian-angel-falls-for-human' story. I hope you will stick with me for this wild unplanned ride. Sorry if it's not your cup of tea ; u ;
> 
> And thank you to those who've supported this story so far with your comments and kudos and bookmarks! C:  
> Come pester me on my [tumblr](http://thedestroyeroflife.tumblr.com) or [art blog](http://organicfleshink.tumblr.com)!


	8. Makhluk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can bathe the world in your light, and cleanse it of the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Makhluk (pronounced _makh-look_ ) meaning 'creature' in Malay

Credence heaves and sobs. Pain laces through his hands, stinging and burning, cuts penetrate deep in his flesh. The house is empty for now, just him and Modesty, who watches him with sad eyes. She helps him with his wounds sometimes, but Credence doesn’t let her. He’s disturbed that she knows how to treat such things too well. At least, the woman who imprisoned them hadn’t directed her attention to the young Fallen.

He’s come to learn that the woman is named Mary Lou, her name often murmured by other figures without guardians of their own, sometimes followed by meek Fallens or missing them altogether. Most are normal, with their guardians still behind them, but they merely watch, not interfere. They visit and they see Credence, and they tell her a job well done; he hears them say: _Another one to do the Lord’s work. We can cleanse this corrupted world._

They are fanatics, clearly, but even fanatics have their disagreements. Credence can hear them argue about things, over a person, over plans and where things are going.

He thinks he hears a name amidst the arguments, but he’s not familiar with it. All he thinks of is Graves. He wonders what his human is doing now. Credence has no idea how long he’s been in this house but it’s probably only two days. The door is always locked, and the windows are blacked out with paint, and all he’s rewarded with are ‘cleansings’ and stale food just enough to sustain his human body from all the exhausting pain. It feels like too many things have happened in such a short period of time.

Credence hears the door unlock and he tenses, shrinking into himself, pressing himself into the corner of the room he’s in. He wishes he could go back to his original form, disperse into a cloud of smoke and escape. He can scarcely believe that he’s under the mercy of a human. He knows he can fight back, but the cost is high and he can’t bring himself to harm a human. He doesn’t think Graves would like that either. It was his choice, of course, to Fall, and it was for Graves. He doesn’t regret it, but he’s quite ashamed at how much lower he’s gone. Perhaps this is another punishment for his choices.

Modesty goes to take a look, and Credence sees her relax slightly. That means it’s not Mary Lou. The person who’s walking in has heavier footsteps; a man. “Hello Modesty,” Credence hears the man greet, and the girl returns the greeting.

“Hello Mr Grindelwald,” she sounds hesitant but more at ease with this man than with Mary Lou. Credence looks up and his gaze meets strange coloured eyes and a pallor face matched with even paler hair and moustache.

Credence recognizes him. It’s the man who shot Graves. Credence had been there, watching, after all.

Credence freezes and his core burns bright, threateningly.  He sees his smoke in his vision, wisps of it faintly coming off him. The man has harmed Graves before.  Credence won't let him harm him again. Credence may not want to harm humans,  but he can make exceptions. He feels his core glow bright, dark shadow cloud seeping from his physical body to hover over him, yet the man is not intimidated. Instead, his eyes widen and an awed smile graces his features.  He grins, strange eyes lighting up as if he's seen a wonder of the world.

“Astounding,” Credence hears the man utter.  Credence  flushes, confused and somewhat embarrassed by the seeming compliment. No one has seen his original form and not be fearful, much less admire it. “Your form is exquisite. Powerful. May I know your name?”

The man called Grindelwald seems to know more than the average human. Credence notices he has no Guardian hovering behind him. No wonder the man knows.

“Credence,” he replies softly, manners first, apparently. The pale man smiles at his response.

“Credence.  I’m not here to hurt you,” the man - Grindelwald - says, holding his hands up. His tone is gentle, but his visage is still unfriendly. Too strange and sly. “I know what you are, but could you tell me how you got here?”

Credence gives him an unamused stare, not bothering to answer. It’s Modesty who replies for him.

“Mary Lou had Chastity take him from somewhere. She says she’s seen him parading around for a while and had to bring him in,” the girl tells them both quietly. Credence hadn’t known that. He hadn’t sensed anyone observing him. This was his own carelessness.

“That woman, doing whatever she wants,” the man mutters. He looks upset, but he seems to forget about it once he turns his eyes back to Credence. “And who is your human?”

Credence doesn’t answer, just staring the man down. At least the man doesn’t know that he is Graves’ Guardian. If he doesn’t answer, his human might remain safe from this mad man. Credence swallows and clenches his scar-ridden hands into fists.

Grindelwald’s strange eyes falls to Credence’s hands and he softens. He takes a slow step forward, voice low, “Poor boy, that woman has done a number on you.” Credence has nowhere to go so he remains while the man moves closer, until eventually, he’s knelt before Credence, on the same eye level with him. The man looks at him strangely, and Credence is not sure how to identify it. He looks at Credence with a  - hunger, perhaps. Something quite akin to what Credence sometimes spots on Graves’ expression. It makes him shudder.

But the man’s touch is gentle, as he takes Credence’s hands. He’s careful, and he holds them like he’s holding treasure. Credence doesn’t know how to feel about this, but he’s uncomfortable, and he misses Graves, and the strange man’s touch reminds him of the human he wants to see so badly.

“That woman will be told of her place,” Grindelwald states. There’s a hardness in his voice. “You are creatures to be exalted, not punished for your choice to Fall.”

“What… what do you want from me?” Credence dares to ask, though he hates how shaky his voice is, hoarse from fatigue. Grindelwald smiles, caressing his scarred hands. Credence’s fingers twitch, and he wants to pull away, but the man’s hold on him is strong.

“We can stand at the top,” the pale man tells him with an unnerving smile. “Humans are nothing, Credence. But you and your brethren. You can stand at the top. We can take care of these lost little lambs. You can bathe the world in your light, and cleanse it of the shadows. ”

Credence inhales sharply. A fanatic is still a fanatic. Just a different kind. But at least, his cruelty is not in the form of Mary Lou’s. Or is it? Chastity has become a copy of her human, but held under a tight leash. He wonders about this man’s Fallen Guardian and their fate.

 

* * *

 

Graves does his own investigation, looking through files and folders of information and cases. The former angel - Fallen - _man_ who calls himself Brian is seated beside him. His presence, Graves notes, makes everyone look away, as if something has them turn away and not notice them. Everyone human, that is. The light and dark shadow figures and darker creatures do see them, but they do nothing. The dark creatures mostly leave upon seeing Brian, but other than that, he is treated the same as Credence was.

Graves is highly strung. It’s been a couple of days and they’ve wasted time looking for files and possible connections. Graves has gone through the list of known Grindelwald followers, of the Deathly Hallows group - a _cult,_ really - but he can’t find any person who stands out. Their group is particularly strange; not seen as a danger but the possibility of it, only because their leader have been suspected of a mass attack on a group of people who seem to have no connection to each other. They’ve retrieved sensitive notes about subjugation of certain people that they could not understand who he was referring to. They’ve suspected him and the group to be responsible for some murders, but never was able to confirm it. Graves worries that these attacks are on people like Credence.

Brian helps to look through the files. He’s quiet, and he’s helpful, but they aren’t getting anywhere. It sets Graves on edge. But it’s Brian who points him to a certain name.

Barebone, Mary Lou. She’s a religious fanatic, who has been seen with Grindelwald’s followers, but it is unconfirmed if she is a member of his little group. Graves doesn’t really see why her, but he sees that she’s been charged with public disturbance numerous times, preaching her beliefs too vehemently, almost to the point of harassment. She’s got that strong belief that is similar to Grindelwald, and there are notes about her mental state, possible hallucinations. It hits quite close to home. He doesn’t miss the note where she almost died from a freak incident.

Graves realizes that it is possible Grindelwald has been recruiting Resurrected.

The Resurrected subjugating Fallens? Is that Grindelwald’s goal? He can't think of any other possible reason. No wonder his case file is just puzzling and they hadn’t known how to approach his case, unsure of his motives, if he were just a normal person.

“You think she has information?” Graves asks Brian, who is looking through the photos slowly. Graves thinks he sees a certain expression on the man’s face at some photos, but he didn’t notice which.

“She might have. Humans like her are most dangerous if left to do as they wish,” Brian says and closes the folder. 

Graves goes to the address of the Barebone woman they have on file. On the way there, Graves still can’t shake off the strange feeling that has been building up ever since his apartment. He’s nervous as he gets into the cab with Brian, whom he’s still wary of. He tries not to stare at the driver’s shadow figure, looking out the window and hoping that Credence is somewhere safe. He bites his lip and fiddles with Credence’s phone, with the screen now cracked. He wishes he could have done something. A longer phone call maybe, or had dinner more…

Credence isn’t dead. He can’t be. Even if he’s hurt… Graves can’t forgive himself for allowing it to happen.

Beside him, Brian watches with knowing eyes.

“Credence is strong,” the man says. “Have faith in your boy.”

Graves glances at the man, feeling his face grimace in both embarrassment and nervousness. He wonders how close the two of them were, and remembers that Credence had called his friend a good man. He decides to trust, just a little bit. “He Fell because of me.”

“His choice. Which is mostly the case. Nobody can force us to Fall without our consent,” Brian tells him. He looks out the window distantly as other vehicles pass by their cab.

“You too?” Graves asks, though he knows it’s a sensitive topic.

“Yes,” Brian smiles at him, and Graves thinks there’s something going on with this man, that he’s connected to all of this somehow. But right now he’s focused on Credence, and he sighs out in relief when the cab finally stops at their destination, a dark apartment building in the poorer part of the city.

Graves is not expecting a fight but he does have a firearm and his badge. He’s just nervous, and he doubts he can protect himself from any of those creatures. He is merely going to see a woman with strong beliefs, that’s all. Hopefully it’s not a wasted trip.

Brian follows him close behind, reminiscent of how guardian angels probably does to their charges. God, he hopes he finds Credence soon. He’ll be keeping the boy close by once he finds him. He will.

They reach the door of the woman’s apartment and knocks. It’s an old building and it looks quite run down, but there are tenants. He’s just jittery from how many dark creatures he’s seen with each step further into it. It’s almost as bad as the prison where Grindelwald was held in. Even as he waits for a response from the door, Graves can see the creatures watching them from the dark corners of the hallway. The smell of something rotten is slight, but it’s enough to make him even more nervous. It’s not a good sign.

Graves waits but it doesn’t open for a couple of minutes. He raises his fist again, about to knock once more when the door creaks open just slightly, the chain lock of the door keeping it secure. He sees the Barebone woman. Her eyes narrow upon seeing him, but Graves keeps the door open before she can slam it close.

“Ms Barebone,” Graves begins, flashing her his badge. He sees her lips stretch into a thin line of disapproval.

“I am giving you no answer nor permission to come into my house,” the woman says, too calmly. Graves leans in to try and peek inside, but he doesn’t see anything. Barebone tries to close the door again, but this time Brian interrupts.

“Please, Ms,” the older man requests quietly, but Graves knows he’s using whatever magic in his voice. The woman blinks at Brian, and then her eyes widen. It doesn’t work, and Graves immediately realizes she’s one of them. Out of instinct he kicks the door open, breaking the chain lock and throwing the woman back. She spits something under her breath and a younger woman comes into the hallway, looking alarmed.

“Chastity!” Barebone hisses and Graves thinks he sees pain and fear in the young woman’s face, just before she bows her head and her body implodes in bright light.

Graves hears the screaming of monstrous creatures filling his ears. His entire body is frozen and his skin is burning, his eyes are blinded by the illumination and his head feels like it’s being squeezed. Distantly Graves hears a scuffle and the soft voice of Brian, and the light disappears. Graves sees the vague shape of a skeletal hound with antlers,  vicious canine teeth bared but they’re broken and rotting. Its monstrous howl stabs into his ears and head before it disappears along with the Barebone woman.

Graves soon realizes he’s flat on the floor, barely breathing and his entire body still burns like it’s been exposed to excruciating heat, but it’s dulled once the light is gone. Brian is pulling him up and his touch cools him, clearing his mind but he remains dazed. He was sure he’d almost died, _for real_.

He feels the scratches on his body - his clothes are partially ripped, and he laments the damage on his designer jacket. He’s still bleeding but they’re not too deep or lethal; he figures Brian had managed to stop the other Fallen before she could do anymore damage.

“T-thanks,” Graves says shakily. The man gives him a tentative smile but he looks a bit more worn out. Graves sees the bloom of crimson on the man’s sleeve. The same thing that happened to Credence when he killed one of those creatures. “Did you kill her…?”

“No, just fought her off. She has… gone somewhere, with her former human charge. I’ve sensed a lot of sadness and cruelty between those two,” Brian says, and he frowns, a deep sadness in those blue eyes Graves didn’t think he’d see.

Graves nods, then begins to look through the apartment. Brian helps, but he moves slower.  It's small, barely furnished and there's hardly any food. There is a bedroom with two beds, but there's an extra room,  yet there's nothing in it,  bare other than clothing hooks and a couple of belts hanging of them.  Graves spots the traces of blood on the old wooden floor and along the belts. He puts two and two together, and the implications of it makes Graves’ stomach churn.

He needs to find Credence.  But he discovers nothing else, no papers or notes of photos, nothing to clue them or even link the Barebone woman to Grindelwald. Despair starts to sink in.

“Shit, what do we do now?” Graves groans, running his hands over his face. They’ve lost their lead to Credence, left in a rundown apartment with no idea where to go. He feels helpless and desperate, almost wanting to cry. He’s exhausted, and the anger in him has burned out. It still grates and growls inside him, though.

Brian speaks up while Graves is nearing a breakdown, though he’s hesitant, and quite reluctant. His voice is quiet as he offers his suggestion. “I can track him.”

“You can?” Graves perks up. _Hoping_. His expression must be full of it, as the Fallen gives him a sad smile.

“Yes,” Brian replies. Graves quickly remembers the consequences of what happens to the Fallen if they use their power. He'd seen Credence, seen the young woman under Barebone,  and he'd seen the red on Brian just earlier.  Guilt punches through his gut and he almost denies the man's offer.  But he holds his tongue.

Credence needs him, and he knows he's a terrible person, using others like this, but the man is offering.  “Thank you,” is the least he can say.  

Brian smiles and holds his hand out to Graves. “I just need you to hold your breath and close your eyes for me. This might be… unpleasant.”

Graves swallows nervously, but it’s for Credence. He nods, and does as he’s told.

Just as he slips his eyes shut, he can see the intense light from Brian. It burns his eyes even with them closed. He has to turn away but he grasps Brian’s hands tightly.

There is a growl of a wolf, something so vicious and reverberating deep in his bones he almost feels like the beast has its maw on him. There is a flutter of heavy wings and the sensation of flames eating into his skin. He doesn’t feel anymore because right after, he feels his body swallowed by stark white.

 

* * *

 

_Albus Fell for Gellert. He was in love with the man, his charisma, intelligence, and his ambition. He was merry and passionate, and when he focused on things that captured his attention, there is a flame that burns so brightly, that Albus couldn’t look away from. Albus found himself longing to be the focus of those eyes. He was the first human that had given him such strong emotions in the millennia that Albus has existed._

_When Gellert died, Albus could not accept it. He had barely just reached the prime of his life, no more than a quarter century old. He was ready to take on the world after his studies, ready to put his talent and intelligence to use. This human was far too precious, too bright for him to allow his fire to be snuffed out like that. A simple car accident had been responsible in cutting that life off, and Albus rejected it. This man had so much more to live for. He could change the world. He was capable of it, and Albus wanted to watch the man thrive and take reign._

_And so he Fell, and he gave the man the Kiss, and Resurrected him._

_Gellert was alive, and when he first saw Albus, he had been mystified. The man had not rejected him. Did not reject the new Sight that came with the Kiss. The man took it and accepted it; Albus had not expected how well the man took to his new found gift. Any lesser man would have become mad from all the new sights, all the creatures he knew to be horrific to mortals. His true form would have made a human scream from fear and insanity, his very light too powerful for such delicate creatures. And yet Gellert had stared at him with such awe and adoration that the angel fell deeper for him._

_Albus was overjoyed when the man reciprocated his feelings._

_“How did I not know of you earlier? My guardian angel, my bumble bee,” Gellert had said to him, his eyes bright and intense as he gazed into Albus’ own. “I wish I can show you to the rest of the world, reveal to them who you are, how powerful and majestic your true form is.”_

_But all was not as well as it had seemed._

_Albus found out about it far too late._

_Gellert had been affected by his Sight after all. The dark creatures that slunk in the shadows and stalked after the dead and decaying. How had he not sensed the fear, the creeping darkness that had latched onto his human’s mind?_

_Gellert had sought out former angels behind his back. Angels without their humans. Some still with them, and he's talked to those humans too. All of them with the aura of something alone and vulnerable. Having strange meetings and leaving similarly strange notes of odd discussions that Albus couldn’t understand. Albus had seen some of them, recognized them as fellow Fallens, but he hadn't understood Gellert’s reasons for seeking them out. He was angry, but he was also afraid. Afraid that he was losing his human and his human’s heart._

_Confronting Gellert - Albus didn’t know if it was a mistake, but it had been done. The man had given him a bewildered look when he was questioned about it._

_“What are you doing with them? What are all these notes and meetings?” Albus had asked._

_“I am gathering them so we can show your power. Show that you angels, you beautiful beings can overcome the shadows, flood this dark world with light,” Gellert had told him, holding his hand so adoringly Albus felt his chest ache. “We won't have to fear the dark.”_

_“We can’t do that, Gellert,” Albus had told him, and the stab in his heart as he pulled his hands from Gellert’s left him breathless and teary eyed. Emotion had still been so raw for him back then. “There is Balance in the world that needs to be upheld. We cannot tip it. I gave my wings for you, and now I am mortal.”_

_“Yes, but now you are here with me. Your light, Albus. Even now it has protected me from the creatures of the dark. They_ fear _you,” Gellert responded. “They fear you angels. You need to cleanse the world of them.”_

_“They need to exist,” Albus repeated and Gellert had frowned at him. “Balance, Gellert.”_

_Something dark flickered across his human’s face. Albus did not mistake it._

_“No, Albus. I don’t care about the Balance,” Gellert had hissed and the man turned his back to him._

_That was the first._

_And then there were many others._

_The last straw came when Albus found his human covered in blood, stood over a dead body. A body of a Fallen. The presence of sulphur was nauseatingly strong. Many of the creatures were somewhere in the distance, watching with interest, inhuman mouths dripping in hunger. Albus’ nightmare had come true._

_“They didn’t want to comply,” Gellert told him nonchalantly, hand still gripping a blood soaked knife. By that time, Gellert had already gathered a following._ Deathly Hallows _, Album remembered having heard him say. A gathering of sanctified reapers. The Resurrected and their Fallens, all his followers, forced or coerced into his propaganda, stood behind him. The Fallen that were there seemed to have sensed his thoughts. The ones still attached to their hosts, hovering close are restless, but they aren't allowed to interfere.  Maybe Albus should have done the same._

_Cores and Authority had flared dangerously, and the threat of a clash had felt inevitable._

_It was all Albus’ fault. He didn’t want to hurt his human, so he didn’t do anything to stop it. He had allowed this to fester due to his sloth and cowardice._

_Hurt and heartbreak tore through him. His core imploded. His true form burst out in rage and sorrow. Many Fallen died by his hands that day. He’d harmed his human too._

_Gellert was blinded in one eye, and his dirty blond hair had become pale, as did his skin, transforming into a sickly pallor._

_Albus left injured and bleeding. Punishment clawed through his body, staining the earth with his blood and flesh but his potent power and maturity were the only reasons he was still alive. The former angel wished the Cosmos had taken him instead._

_Albus wept as he staggered away, escaping from his mistakes and his first love. Back then, he thought that he heard Gellert call out to him,  but he pressed on and willed himself not to turn back._


	9. Manusia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He hears Graves crying. He hasn’t seen the man cry since Credence watched him do so as a child.
> 
> Ah, Credence thinks, as he feels the sting of the first Punishment, ripping into his core. So this is how it feels to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Manusia (pronounced _mah-noo-see-ah_ ) meaning 'human' in Malay  
> One more to go!

“Credence!” he hears Graves. His human. The one he Fell for. He’d missed him so much, his voice, his touch, his soft eyes no longer fearful of him.

Yet Credence can’t gather himself. Rage and sorrow had overcome him, his core split open and his Authority imploding and ripping apart the Balance. He knows he will die after this. He isn’t supposed to do this. He feels the dark creatures in the vicinity screeching. Ripped apart by his presence  and forcefully returned to the Cosmos.

Mary Lou lies dead on the floor with Chastity, both mangled from his wrath.

Modesty is immobile. Her human body is broken, but Credence senses a wisp of her original form there, like fragile tree branches and dried, dead leaves, the center of its trunk-like torso hollowed for the giant eyeball that stares at him blankly.

He has Fallen too far down, into the pit of Nothingness. The Cosmos will claim him, and the Balance will take back what he’s torn apart.

He hears Graves crying. He hasn’t seen the man cry since Credence watched him do so as a child.

 _Ah_ , Credence thinks, as he feels the sting of the first Punishment, ripping into his core. _So this is how it feels to die._

 

* * *

 

Mary Lou appears into the hideout with Chastity in tow, but the latter collapses to the floor with a faint whisper for mercy. Her body is covered in lacerations; the Balance has taken nearly all of her. If she were to do anymore, she will die a painful death with barely anything of her physical body left. Credence sees something else, too - burn marks? Minimal, but he spots the scarring over her neck and a little over the side of her face. Not something the Balance would leave. Credence whimpers at the sight, but holds on to Modesty firmly, providing support he’s not sure if it’s for her or for himself.

Grindelwald had brought Credence and Modesty away for a specific reason. The man had begun with talks, sharing his interests and his vision, and his beliefs on angels, on the Fallen - them. Modesty seems to have heard his speech before. She nods, but she’s not registering, either stubbornly refusing to or too young to understand. Credence thinks it’s the former. He also thinks that this man is extremely persuasive. There is something in his voice that is familiar to his friend, and it makes him uncomfortable. It’s strange.

He has that strength and conviction in his voice, and Credence does feel the passion in him. Something has driven Grindelwald to this point, but he can’t fathom what. There is darkness in this man, that much is clear, but he’s coherent and not completely insane, still functioning and somewhat rational. He is quite a frightening human, especially as Credence is aware what the man is currently trying to do - to sway them to his favour.

Credence had tried to distract himself with his surroundings. A small apartment, hidden in some part of the city Credence doesn’t recognize, even as they were driven to the place. But Credence had noted the books and papers on the desk, photos of strangers. He’d seen a framed photo of someone with blue eyes who looks vaguely familiar, but it’s partially burned. He also spots a gun.

Mary Lou’s entrance had been a good interruption for Credence, even if he fears the woman. He isn’t sure what would happen if the man has his words into Credence’s mind any longer. But he hears Grindelwald snarl and the first thing he gives to the woman is not a  greeting, but a sharp, unforgiving slap. Mary Lou looks shaken and it’s the first time Credence sees her that way. She keeps a defiant, muted expression, but there are fearful tears in her eyes. A bruise is already blossoming across her cheek.

“I told you not to abuse the angels, Barebone,” Grindelwald hisses as he glances at Chastity. Credence almost anticipates the hateful sneer of _abominations_ and _sinners_ that Mary Lou’s called him as she belted him in ‘cleansing’. The very thought of the words leave him shuddering in his skin. She doesn’t say a thing though. Grindelwald turns to Modesty, and Credence reflexively nudges her behind him protectively. The man gives Credence a cold smile.

“I just want Modesty to help Chastity, if that is alright?” the human says placatingly. Credence feels the young girl nod. It seems that she is familiar with this, as she automatically goes to Chastity. Credence watches as she uses her power to heal the other Fallen; he knows this will cost Modesty, and he’s sure Grindelwald is aware of this too.

Mary Lou’s sudden appearance has all of them on edge. The man turns back to her with a sharp look.

“Well? What’s your reason for coming here,” Grindelwald demands.

“Someone forced their way into the house,” she answers, somehow keeping the derision and shakiness out of her voice. The woman doesn’t back off, staring him down. If she weren’t abusive or deranged, Credence would have admired her for her strength of will.

“A Resurrected, but not one of us. A detective.”

At that, Credence perks up. Could it be Graves? Grindelwald didn’t miss that, and eyes Credence suspiciously.

“Did you get a name?”

“Graves, or something. I didn’t want him loitering. But he had his Fallen there. He tried to persuade me to let him in.”

Graves and his Fallen? That confused Credence, but that also made Grindelwald focus on Mary Lou instead.

“He has his Fallen with him? And,” Grindelwald looks to Chastity, who is currently being healed. The burn scars are fading and she looks better, but Credence sees the blood on Modesty which he is sure that it doesn’t belong to Chastity. Yet, the young girl doesn’t cry. “And, his Fallen did this?”

“Some, yes, but we escaped here,” Mary Lou replies. She winces as she speaks; the bruise is darkening, and Credence almost feels the pain from it. “It was a sacrifice I was willing to make.”

“ _Sacrifices,_ ” Grindelwald sneered but he seems distracted, deep in thought.

“Call the others, I need the Fallen,” Grindelwald orders after a brief pause. Mary Lou looks surprised and confused by what he’s said. “I said, gather them all. Here.”

Barebone stares at him before she does so, moving toward the lone phone on the other side of the room. Credence watches, and then Grindelwald grabs him by the arm.

“Are you with me, Credence?” the man asks, and the question jolts him. Credence is growing confused too. The man is becoming agitated and nervous. He’s afraid he will hurt him if he denies the man.

“Yes,” he whispers, and he tries to put as much truth in it, hoping the man won’t detect the lie and land a hand on him. The answer is quiet but it seems to please the deranged human.

The questions in his mind are interrupted, gone from his mind when bright, silver flames flood the apartment out of nowhere. Like an illusion, the flames do no harm, but it is blinding. Credence shuts his eyes; he hears Mary Lou shriek and he feels the grip on his arm tighten painfully. The woman didn’t manage to get a proper call out.

As fast as they appeared, the flames are gone in a flash; he feels their intensity disappear. When Credence opens his eyes he sees two familiar figures.

 

* * *

 

_“Pure white,” Gellert said. “A beautiful miracle.” He had smiled every time he looked at Albus’ way. A second chance was what the human deserved. Albus hadn’t regretted the choice, and the short years they had before darkness took his human away was worth it. Albus wished he had done more, had noticed more, had put a stop to it._

_Being an older being did little to excuse his mistakes. He had made poor choices, had been wilfully ignorant and chose sloth over action. Too afraid to harm Gellert and be the target of his hatred, even when his love had gone wrong. Gellert had seen too much of his Light, while his mind had been devoured by the darkness he thought the human was too remarkable to fall to._

_When he first saw the boy - Credence - Albus was… envious. He missed his human. He had stayed away from Gellert and his group, trying to put a blind eye to his actions, proof of his failure as a guardian angel. Took up a job as a teacher and tried to make the best of his situation, to live as a normal human. But as much as he wanted to be deaf to it, he had heard of Gellert’s arrest, of an officer’s near death, and Albus had known then. The boy he’d observed, all pale and drawn in, but smiling so brightly with his human who had no guardian other than the one smiling at him. Albus felt longing and sorrow and heartbreak. That could have been him and Gellert._

_“My honeybee,” Gellert murmured when Albus saw him in the prison he was held in. It broke his heart, seeing his human in that state. They spoke little, but Albus saw, that despite the white hair and the strange eyes, the darkness in his human was dense to a point that even the dark creatures prowling about the building could consider him one of their own._

_“I’m so sorry, Gellert,” Albus had told him. “I hope this will stop you from doing any more harm.”_

_But Gellert hadn’t seem to have heard him, eyes fixed on him but closed off from everything else. Hand pressed flat against the glass, and Albus indulged, doing the same. “Please wait for me. We can flood the world with your Light,” the man says in a voice Albus has missed far too much._

_Albus had shaken his head no, strengthening his resolve. “Goodbye, Gellert.”_

_His human did not reply, but Albus felt the same, strange eyes glued to his back as he left._

 

* * *

 

“Credence!” It’s Graves. And - Brian? Credence stares at his friend whom he thought was a human. Instead, he sees the vision of the man’s original shape: a frightening, grotesque mix of a bird-like creature and a wolf with numerous eyes, like these two creatures were meshed together by the hip. A halo of flames surround its monstrous form, and Credence realizes this being is far older than any other he’s met. Of purity, and righteousness too, judging from its brightness and pure white colour. Yet his physical arms are carved with Punishment, as vulnerable as the rest of them for abusing their power when they no longer have any right to it.

“Albus,” Grindelwald whispers. He sounds odd, faint with disbelief, but the grip on Credence leaves the boy hissing and in tears. He feels the man’s nails digging into him and drawing blood.

“Let him go, Grindelwald,” Graves demands. He has his gun trained on the other human. He looks disheveled and there are some scratches on him. Chastity had done that? He feels something burn inside him. His core sparks but he tries to keep it tightly under control.

He should have been there to protect Graves. If he hadn’t been so weak…

Modesty and Chastity are in between them. She’s looking at Credence, brows furrowed in question, afraid. Chastity looks better, but she’s still barely holding on. Her eyes are wild and frightened as she looks to her human, Mary Lou, for orders.

“Have you found a new charge, Albus?” Grindelwald asks, completely ignoring Graves, even as the man cocks his gun. His grip on Credence doesn’t loosen at all, still a vice on Credence’s arm. He notices Graves staring at him nervously, gun still pointed at Grindelwald. Credence sees the anger in his human’s eyes, that he _wants_ to shoot the other human, but he can sense his fear too, afraid that Grindelwald might do something drastic.

“You need to stop, Gellert,” Brian - Grindelwald had called him _Albus_ \- and they seem to have a history together. Credence realizes this must be the man who was the cause of the forlorn aura over his friend. “It’s been so long. Please.”

Grindelwald shakes his head, his strange eyes shining with something wild. His smile is cold and sharp. “I had thought you would be waiting for me when you visited me the other day,” the man says. “So many years since we last met and you came back. I should have known you were the one to tip them off. And now you’ve lied to me and moved on.”

“Gellert,” Albus pleads.

Grindelwald brandishes the same gun Credence spotted earlier. His human eyes are unable to catch the blur of movement. All he hears is the ring of a gunshot.

 

* * *

 

Graves anticipates the pain, but it doesn’t come. The young girl that was sitting by the young woman, the Fallen who had attacked them before, falls instead. Grindelwald’s gun is still pointed at him, but the girl had taken the shot, and he sees the shade of her original shape flickering weakly over her. Blood begins to pool under her small physical body. The eye in the center of her form stares at him before it flutters and disappears within its darkness.

Credence lets out a deafening howl that isn’t human.

Just like Barebone’s Fallen, his body is breaking, cracking, and Graves sees the smoke of the boy’s original form. It’s tangible now, real and physical, and fear creeps into him and freezes his muscles. Graves doesn’t want his boy split apart by this.

Grindelwald had finally let go of Credence, hand snapped back as if he’s been burnt. The smoke builds up, larger and larger, until it’s covering the entire ceiling of the room. Graves is reminded by the first time he’s seen Credence like this, a flash of the giant gaping maw split open wide as if to consume him. The memory leaves his hands shaking, his knees nearly buckling. Credence is as magnificent as he was before, but there’s less awe and more fear - this is all savagery and destruction out of rage and sorrow. He’s amazed that the entire building hasn’t caved in from his might.

“Abomination!” Graves just realized Barebone is there with them. But that is the last thing she says, a mistake she shouldn’t have made.

Credence has completely transformed into the smoke-like creature and it’s terrifying. The entire cloud is sentient, and the peek of red-tinged claws from within the cloud lashes out. The black matter follows and quickly it surrounds Barebone.

Chastity attempts to sit up and summon her power, Graves notices, but she’s as quickly swallowed by the giant mass of darkness that was once Credence. Her weak scream disappears, as the inhuman growl reaches a deafening volume. Blood and gore taken in by the beast within the dark cloud.

Grindelwald steps back, walking away, fear and panic in his eyes for the first time. Graves feels his anger balling up inside his chest. He raises his gun again, determined even despite the violent trembling of his hands gripping the weapon.

 

* * *

 

Modesty has told him that she misses her human. Despite only knowing each other for a short moment, they have bonded quite closely. Modesty has watched as Credence was put under the mercy of Mary Lou’s cleansing belt. Credence has seen the same marks of both the human woman’s and the Balance’s punishment on the young girl’s arms, hidden under the long sleeves of her white nightgown. Her golden hair is dull and dry. Credence briefly wonders, that if there were angels in the concept of some current human religions, her human is watching over her from heaven.

When Mary Lou finally left them alone, Chastity went with her and never spared them a glance, but Credence sees she’s too beaten and afraid despite her cold, blank eyes. He doesn’t blame her.

Modesty knows how to heal, though it costs her own life, an abuse of her Authority. She helps him a bit sometimes, earning little scratches for her trouble. Credence feels anger at his situation. Bitterness that he was pulled into this because the woman had spotted and recognised his former self, somehow. His protectiveness for the younger Fallen makes his core burn with the desire to turn the punishment onto the human woman instead.

Angels don’t have siblings. Technically, perhaps they’re all siblings, birthed out of the Cosmos. But in human terms, Credence has thought that he wouldn’t mind having Modesty as family. He’s sure Graves wouldn’t mind her either - she’s got a spark in her and she’s got a strong will, similar to his human.

His body aches and the sting of the lashes on his skin dulled, but it still leaves him breathless. He thanks Modesty as he stares at the black painted windows. Silently, he prays for Graves’ safety.

 

* * *

 

Credence sees Brian, no, Albus, step in.

Gunshots.

More white flames and Credence feels his form forced down. The monstrous form of the other angel has his cloud gathered and condensed back into his human body. He feels barely there, consciousness eluding his grasp. He falls to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.

“Credence!”

It’s Graves. He feels the man’s familiar large hands on him, warming his cold body. Credence is barely able to blink up at him. It’s only a matter of time before the Balance takes what it’s owed. He’s killed a human and a fellow Fallen. The fear begins to sink in. He might _die_ this time, for good. And he’s just met with Graves again.

“My boy, I’m so sorry,” Graves sounds out of breath, and controlled. There’s a little tremor in his voice and in his touch. Credence wonders how bad his state is. He wonders why Graves is even apologizing to him.

He didn’t really expect it to be all smooth; Falling for a human was against all laws of the universe, and perhaps he deserved all this, willingly going with his desires. He wonders about regret, but feels none of it; he’s learned more of his human emotions being with Graves and he longs for the warmth and joy he enjoyed with the man.

Graves didn’t need to apologize. Credence should, maybe. If he wasn’t this thing, a human yet not, he wouldn’t have dragged Graves into some madman’s plan. But the thought of him not saving Graves, not allowing him the second chance to continue life, it hurts more than whatever punishment there is for him. No, Credence doesn’t regret it all. He’s seen Graves smile and fond and happy, even directing his smiles to Credence.

 

* * *

 

Graves sees Brian in his original form. His eyes are tearing, both from crying for Credence who lies injured and near-death in his arms, and the automatic effect that comes with looking straight into a higher being’s glory.

He can’t see the full visage, but it’s a monster; it’s a wolf and a bird - a phoenix? Fire burns the air around it, and the creature is looming over Grindelwald’s body. Graves hadn’t missed his target.

He feels no guilt; the man deserved his fate. He’s killed innocents and he’d taken Credence from him. The man was going to do more harm if left be. Graves’ anger didn’t stop there. He was angry at the man who called himself Credence’s friend. _Albus_ had known it was Gellert, and he didn’t do anything about it. His hand is still gripping his gun and he raises it, willing himself to point it at the angel.

“Are you going to give him a third chance?” Graves asks in between gritted teeth. He’s ready to shoot the man - creature - monster - Fallen - if it were to do anything.

The two heads of the former angel turn to him. Graves looks away from it but doesn’t point the gun away. The lower body is of a wolf, its lupine legs loping over to Grindelwald who’s stewing in his pool of blood. The man’s strange coloured eyes are blank, seemingly dead, but when the angel nears him, he blinks and looks.

Its phoenix head is - crying? There are tears. Graves can’t see it well, but he feels sadness coming from the creature in waves. He feels Credence shudder. The bird-like creature turns its head back to Graves and its beak opens. The man almost covers his ears on instinct, but the voice that comes to him is human. It sounds like Brian’s voice, yet, he doesn’t understand its speech, sounding much like gibberish, a garbled mesh of strange words.

But it startles Graves when he feels Credence move. The boy has his head facing the two - Grindelwald and Albus. The boy watches them with pitying eyes, and Graves wonders what is being said. He’s nervous that the other Fallen might do something that wouldn’t be in their favour. Before Graves can ask, the phoenix head lets out a sharp, piercing cry. The wolf part of the creature howls before it clamps its massive jaws over Grindelwald. The flames around the creature grow brighter and brighter, until it feels like the entire world is flooded with white.

Graves is amazed he hasn’t gone completely blind yet. He does all he can to hold onto Credence, throwing his body over the young man as the white flames consume them.


	10. Sayang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graves doesn’t hide his affections for Credence anymore, and while the younger man seems surprised, the shy grin he receives feels like it’s worth their ordeals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Sayang (pronounced _sah-yahng_ ) meaning 'love, care, affection' in Malay. In another context, it also means remorse and longing.
> 
> This is basically a fluff piece to close the story and let them have a good time after all they've been through :)

Graves is awoken by something warm in his hand. It’s comforting. He forces his eyes to open. He’s in the same room as before. Credence is there, Graves’ head in his lap, their hands clasped together. Graves thinks Credence is glowing, but he blinks and realises it’s just the overhead light. Credence looks better, still pale but not injured, as if he was just ruffled a bit. All traces of his scars and the blood are gone.

“You’re awake,” Credence mutters and he sees the boy crying. Graves is a little confused, still dazed from just waking up. He barely remembers how he got there. He looks around; they’re alone, aside from scorch marks on the floor. There’s no sign of the Barebone woman, or of the little girl who had taken the bullet for him. No sign of Grindelwald or Brian either.

His focus zones in back on Credence, reaching his hands up to cup the pale boy’s face. He’s here, at least. Not a dream, or a hallucination. Graves shudders as he’s reminded of the Fallen’s original form but he’s no longer afraid of it. Not truly so, not when his boy is here in control and not exploding into black matter and giant jaws of sharp teeth. He wipes away Credence’s tears and the boy sobs harder, clutching at his hand like it’s the only thing keeping him afloat.

“What… what happened?” Graves asks. He’s sat up and pulling Credence in a crushing hug, making up for not doing so earlier. He hushes the younger man, soothing him and calming him down from his sobs. Graves remembers he was a similar mess over the boy before he’d been knocked out too. He’d thought he was going to lose Credence again, for good that time.

“I don’t know, Brian - he…” Credence pulls away reluctantly but they remain close. Graves can’t keep his hands off him, hands cupping those hollowed cheeks, brushing away his unruly hair and wiping away tear tracks. Graves wants to keep him close, kiss him senseless and bring him home. “Brian spoke to me. He apologized…”

“He should’ve,” Graves grumbles, resting his forehead against Credence’s. “I’d have shot him, if he hurt you too.” Credence shakes his head but he’s smiling a little.

“No - Brian, he... He’s alright. His real name is Albus. He’s… older. Much older than any other I’ve met,” Credence says quietly. “He said he Fell for Gellert when they were younger, but he strayed - the Sight brought Darkness in him…”

“Is he - are they still alive?” Graves asks; that’s the main concern of his right now, if they were going to return and harm either of them again. He doesn’t care if Grindelwald was driven mad by the Sight; Graves understood, but the man had embraced it and acted on it, and his Fallen didn’t stop him. That’s what made him so angry, and for them to involve others, especially Credence, in their twisted tragic love story.

“I don’t - I’m not sure, but I don’t think so. Albus did something. He burned it all away, my wounds, my payment with the Balance, even the bodies, even - ” Credence’s voice hitches and holds back another sob, and Graves strokes along the back of his neck. “Even Modesty. She… she recognized that you were my charge. That’s why she moved.  She lost her human before. She didn’t want me to be sad.”

“The little girl?” Graves asks, voice hoarse with emotion as Credence nods. Shit. Even if they were beings much older than their human form, it still left a bad taste in his mouth. “God, I’m so sorry, Credence. She was - you were close with her?”

Credence barely nods before he begins to sob harder, and Graves lets him cry, pressing their bodies close for comfort. To be truthful, he was emotionally drained himself. With only the black burn marks on the floor and the lack of any bodies, it almost feels like it had all been a dream. A bad, exhausting dream. But Credence is here with him, safe and sound, _finally_ , and while he was angry at Brian and Grindelwald still, he’s more than relieved to have his boy in his arms again.

Graves slowly stands, pulling Credence with him, keeping him close and he inspects the area. His hand remains on his Glock, that’s holstered, but he’s ready. But there’s no one else around, no humans, not even a sign of the dark creatures prowling about. The area feels empty, _cleansed_ , almost. It brings relief to him.

“Come on, Credence, what say we get home?” Graves suggests gently. His whole body’s aching, his head is still pounding and he’s just _tired_. Credence looks just as worn out, but his smile fills him with a spirit that has him leaning closer. They rest their heads together, both of them sagging against one another.

“I can’t wait to be home with you Mister Graves,” Credence tells him once he’s composed himself enough, and Graves punctuates that with a kiss. He’s surprised by his action, too, but he doesn’t regret it, smiling at Credence. The startled sob from Credence had Graves laughing.

 

* * *

 

Graves doesn’t take any chances. Once he has Credence home, he nearly drags the boy to his room and tucked in his bed. His house has been fixed, door repaired and with a new lock and Graves has made sure it’s a stronger type, though he knows it’ll do little to deter any other supernatural creature.

But Graves is careful while being a little forceful; he doesn’t want to hurt the boy anymore than he already has. He tries to be gentle, nudging Credence in to the bed that was too large for one person. They’ve cleaned up, a quick wash of faces and wipes and they’re both too tired for anything else anyway.

Credence is reluctant but with Graves’ insistence they both get into the bed, facing each other. The boy is still meek, looking to Graves with uncertainty and fidgeting restlessly that Graves has to pull him close. Graves holds Credence in a near hug, tucking the younger man’s face to his neck and it warms his heart feeling him relax. He’s expected feeling himself loosen up and mellow as he follows the rhythm of Credence’s breathing. His angel is safe now, in his arms, smelling of ash and home and _happiness._

Graves feels comfortable and content. He’s not gonna let this happen again. He’s going to protect Credence and the boy’s happiness and he wants Credence to stay with him always.

He falls asleep to the sound of Credence’s breathing.

The following days continue as if nothing wrong had happened. Conveniently, all reports and memories of Credence’s disappearance were dropped or forgotten. Grindelwald and his group of Deathly Hallows remain in the system, but are registered as a non-threat, and his arrest had never happened. Graves isn’t sure whether this is another of Brian’s doing, especially since he has gotten no news of the man from anyone or Credence himself. Tina had been confused about her feelings being angry with Graves - she had forgotten why she was mad at him, but that is later forgotten too as she takes to Credence again like before when she comes to visit. And Credence was as happy to see her too.

They are back to dinners and Queenie and Jacob sending Credence more gifts of sweets and cookbooks and Credence returns to human life looking lighter and more radiant than he already is.

Graves doesn’t hide his affections for Credence anymore, and while the younger man seems surprised, the shy grin he receives feels like it’s worth their ordeals. Graves feels closer with him, glad that Credence has taken to talking to him more often, more vocal about his thoughts and less shy with physical touch. He leans to Graves’ petting, tightens his grip when Graves takes his hand to hold when they go out for groceries or a simple meal.

And most importantly, he doesn’t flinch when Graves finally -   _finally_ , kisses him.

Graves doesn’t want any more regrets and put off the chances he’s been given. Credence had brought him back for another shot at happiness, and Credence has become that. He knows that the angel Fell for him for another reason too. He remembers Tina teasing him, telling him how the boy looks at him. He knows it himself, but had been too delirious from fear of his Sight and of the dark creatures including Credence’s monstrous original form, and at the same time, afraid to sully such a pure creature like his angel.

They share the same bed now, with Graves’ insistence. Credence, who had been shy and reluctant before, comes willingly and gets cosy in the large bed. He warms Graves’ cool, chilly nights, and remains a strong, supporting figure by his side despite his lean, fragile frame. He reminds Graves of the vulnerability of his life, having lost one, given another chance and had almost lost that too. Shown happiness, and that almost taken away as well, so he clings onto Credence now, and the boy is happy, reciprocating the affection showered upon him, and Graves is just glad and relieved that he has this.

Sometimes he still thinks he doesn’t deserve all this, that he doesn’t deserve Credence, but he stares at the boy and he holds onto him firmly. This boy is _his_ , and he is Credence’s.

The creatures no longer bother him as much. They seem to stay clear too. He has Credence promise him never to use his powers again, no matter what.

“I need to protect you still,” Credence answers instead, his brows furrowed, and Graves can’t help but rub at the crease between his brows, kissing the younger man’s temple.

“You can do that, but not at the cost of your life, sweet boy,” Graves murmurs against his cheek, trailing kisses along the side of the young man’s face. Credence huffs but he nods, and he holds Graves close, wrapping his long lanky arms over Graves’ shoulders and leans to his kisses, to his warmth, and that action alone fills Graves with joy.

“You too then,” Credence says, his bronze eyes bright and nearly golden as Graves gazes back into them. “I want you safe, mister policeman.”

“I’m a detective,” Graves replies flatly, and the boy frowns at him. It’s an adorable expression.

“You know what I mean. Grindelwald - that man might not be the end, and the dark creatures…” Credence mutters, leaning in with a shaky sigh.

“I know, I’ll be careful,” Graves says then, as he strokes and pets the back of Credence’s head as always. He gets a smile for his words and they cuddle. But they don’t have much to worry about. For some reason or another, Graves see less of the dark creatures, and when they do they appear more fuzzy than usual, and most of them slink away at the sight of him. The shadow beings, the guardians that hover over their charges remain, and they seem to have sensed a change in Graves too. They tend to look at him, but they don’t communicate. They leave him alone, and that is exactly how Graves wants it.

Credence, meanwhile, seems more at peace. He’s still quiet, and when asked he says he’s still sad about Modesty, but he smiles assuredly for Graves and they move on. He doesn’t talk much about Brian - or Albus, as they’ve come to know him as. The other beings don’t approach Credence either, though it remains that the boy keeps his identity as a Fallen, acknowledging them with a nod but keeping his distance.

Graves is just glad they aren’t bothered any more. He supposes he has Albus to thank for helping him get Credence back, but he’s also still a little mad. Now he just feels pity, that the angel had decided to follow his path and disappeared along with Grindelwald. He only hopes that they stay missing. It’s better that way, he thinks. Credence, at least, deserves the peace.

 

* * *

 

Credence is out with Queenie and Jacob. After the whole debacle with Albus and Grindelwald, Credence and Graves both had taken it upon themselves to connect more with their friends. Credence is more than willing to be in the company of his human’s close circle of friends - they’re practically family - and he already considers Queenie as someone whom humans would call a ‘best friend’. Jacob is as sweet, but sometimes he’s clueless, with Queenie filling him in and telling him what’s happening. The blonde woman can practically read minds; perhaps she’s just naturally sensitive to her fellow humans’ emotions, and Credence admires her greatly for that. He admires both of them, really, the way they love so openly, and their joy is infectious. He wonders if he and Graves can get to that level, but the thought of it makes him blush.

They’re out shopping because Credence says he wants to buy something, a simple gift for Graves. There’s no particular occasion, but Credence had wanted to, so he confides in Queenie. And the younger Goldstein sister _squeals_. Queenie’s excited enough that she drags both her husband and Credence out, going through different shops in the nearest mall. Credence laughs and smiles, looking through silly gag gifts and designer ties and custom collar pins that he knows would go well with Graves’ wardrobe.

He doesn’t expect for someone to approach him. And for a moment, Credence almost feels his core rattle, his instinct to tap into his Authority at the tip of his fingertips. Albus stands before him, in the middle of a designer clothes store, but no one else sees the man. His signature auburn hair is now pure white, and while he still has the aura of sorrow, it’s also layered with something that smells like decay.

The Fallen - the man - Credence’s friend is _dying._

“Hello, Credence,” Albus greets with a slight smile. The man is pale and sickly, weak enough that it seems like he’s drained just from standing. Everyone else doesn’t look their way. Even Queenie and Jacob appear like they’re more distracted by whatever they’re doing instead of looking in Credence’s direction.

“Albus…” Credence begins. He feels the hurt and pain that’s coming from the other Fallen. His clothes are like robes, large and flowing, and he knows they hide the scars under the cloth. Credence knows that the Balance is slowly eating away at him. The young man doesn’t know what to say. “I - thank you. For helping me. Helping us. All of it - everything keeping away, the memories gone, the cover ups - that’s all you isn’t it?”

The man lips quirk into a slight smile, almost playful, and nods slowly, his blue eyes lowered behind the full-moon glasses. “I had to make up for my sins,” Albus replies. Even his voice sounds weak.

Credence says nothing. He looks back to Queenie and Jacob who are deep in conversation over a pair of cufflinks.

“You’ve made friends,” Albus speaks, and Credence turns back to see the man smiling gently.

“Yes,” the younger of the two replies. “Didn’t you?”

Albus blinks and stares distantly at nothing, “No… it was… difficult, after I separated from Gellert.”

“Is he - is he alive?” Credence dares to ask, and for the first time, he sees the glassy, watery look in his friend’s eyes. The man doesn’t answer. Credence understands when Albus ignores it.

“I am glad you found friends in this life. You deserve it, Credence,” Albus says instead. “I’m glad to have met you too, my boy. You reminded me of some very good times. I wish you well, with your human - with Percival Graves.”

They stare at each other for a heavy moment, Credence wanting to say something, _anything_ , to ease the pain that’s wafting off the older man. “Thank you, Albus.”

The older Fallen smiles, bright and genuine this time, and the feeling of finality seeps into Credence. “Good day, my boy.”

Credence moves to reach out to the man, but then he hears Queenie call out to him. Credence turns his head to the pair, then back to Albus, but he’s already gone.

“Credence! Whatchoo lookin’ at? See somethin’ you like?” Queenie asks, her constant bright smile on her face.

“I think he has an eye on those collar pins, honey,” Jacob adds, and Credence blinks questioningly, turning to whatever Jacob was referring to. He sees it; a pair of scorpion shaped, emerald collar pins. It struck Credence how much it suited Graves, somehow. The man is refined, dangerous, and so very precious to him.

“Oooh, those will look perfect on our Mister Graves,” Queenie cooed, as if sensing his thoughts, and slips her arm around Credence’s.

“Those look expensive,” Credence mutters, but he really likes them. He wonders if this is Albus’ suggestion. He smiles again, yet feeling a pang of sadness for his friend, whom he knows he will lose soon.

“Don’t you worry about that, Cred,” Jacob tells him, slapping the younger man on the shoulder jovially.

“Come on, let’s get that wrapped up for your man,” Queenie teases and pinches his flushed cheeks, with Jacob laughing behind him.

 

* * *

 

When he gets home, he’s greeted by Graves, who’s home earlier than usual. It’s a pleasant surprise, but Credence had wanted to make his gift a surprise too. He clutches his little bag with the wrapped gift nervously.

“Hey,” Graves looks up at him from the couch, sounding a little breathless and nervous as well. “You went shopping?”

“Queenie insisted,” Credence replies, feeling an anxious flush spreading through his cheeks. “U-um.”

“I uh-” Graves stands and he walks past Credence to retrieve something from the kitchen. He returns with a full bouquet of - carnations? Credence blinks and stares at Graves, mouth slightly open, speechless. Graves is harbouring the strangest expression Credence has seen on the man. A mix of awkward, nervous, and embarrassment. “I… I got you these.”

Credence blinks at his human dumbly.

Graves coughs and holds it out to Credence. The bouquet is a carnation mix of different colours; white, pink, light red, dark red, but at the center - black. Those attracts him the most. Credence takes the bouquet with shaky hands; he feels warmth spreading through this entire human body and he ends up nearly hugging the bouquet. He feels himself smiling widely, unable to repress his joy. Graves coughs again, but the man is blinking and staring at Credence, as if he can’t look away. “Uh, Tina told me I should get you something…” Of course, the Goldstein sisters. Credence grins.

“It was my idea, for carnations, since the meaning…” Graves looks away and scratches the back of his head. He’s embarrassed, practically squirming where he stands and Credence feels bad for finding it so _cute_. “Tina didn’t like the black carnations, because it’s supposedly bad, but… they remind me of you.”

And it does, he supposes, though he feels a little guilty for his vanity. “Dark, but beautiful. Deadly, but magical,” Graves provides with a knowing smirk, bringing words to Credence’s thoughts. The young man blushes at the compliments coming from the other man.

“Thank you,” Credence utters, and he steps forward towards Graves slowly. “Really, thank you, Perce.”

This time it’s Graves who’s smiling. He likes it when Credence calls him that, and Credence has taken note of it. He does that a lot now, of his beloved’s likes and favourites. “It’s the least I can do for you, Credence,” Graves says with a genuine smile. Credence takes another bold step and leans in to kiss the man, earning a pleased hum.

“I got you something too,” Credence murmurs against his lips, bringing up the paper bag.

“You shouldn’t have -”

“Shh,” the young man hushes him with another kiss. “Open it, please.”

Graves takes the bag and fishes out the square box. It’s in velvet black, and Graves smooths his fingers over the top, glancing to Credence before he opens it. He smirks when he sees its contents.

“Scorpions, really?” Graves laughs, and Credence grins in response. He pulls Credence to a deep kiss, not allowing the younger man to slip a word in. Credence would have laughed if his mouth weren’t so occupied. The arm not holding the bouquet moves to wrap around Graves’ waist. The older man is cupping Credence by his jaw and the back of his neck, and their bodies slot together so perfectly, Credence could cry from how right and at home he felt.

 _Thank you_ , he wants to say, to repeat it over and over and utter them to the Cosmos for allowing this. He never wants to let go.

Falling had never been a mistake, and so was the Kiss that brought second chances for the both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Carnation flower (and magickal) meanings: Protection, love, good luck. Black carnations are man-made. It also symbolizes death.


	11. Bonus Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some art I did relating to this fic.

Credence and his original form:

Chastity & Modesty:

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much guys. It's finally done! I appreciate all those who've left kudos and especially those who have left comments. I enjoy reading all your responses and they kept me going. I'm also flattered you stuck with me and this story! I hope I didn't disappoint too much. Thank you thank you <3
> 
> For more art, do visit me at my tumblr: [organicfleshink](http://organicfleshink.tumblr.com)!


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